Unforgettable Love
by Lost in Day Dreams
Summary: A terrible accident causes Brock to believe that he is still married to Reba. While being forced to play along, Reba finds herself falling in love with him all over again. Can she stop herself before its too late? Find out! BrockReba
1. Like It Was

Hello there! You may recognize me from the several oneshots I've written in this section, but this time I've decided to add a full length story to my credit! Just in case you're wondering, it is a Brock and Reba story, and its set right smack dab in the middle of season six. Anyway, here we go!

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Reba Hart sighed deeply as she trudged over from her kitchen to the living room and tossed her purse and briefcase down on the coffee table. She had just gotten home from showing a couple a house for what seemed like the billionth time and hadn't the slightest bit of energy to change out of her rose-appliquéd jacket and ruffled top with matching pants. Instead, she just flopped down onto the couch and closed her eyes, soaking in the stillness of the moment. It was a rare occasion that the house was so peaceful, so she wasn't about to take even a second of that tranquility for granted.

Just as she was floating somewhere between consciousness and sleep, a loud beeping sound startled her up into a sitting position. When she calmed herself down enough to recognize what the sound was, she realized it was her watch reminding her that it was time to take her high blood pressure medication. Reba sighed loudly once more and plodded back over to the kitchen to retrieve her pills and a glass water to down them with. The daily ritual of taking those pills was beginning to get a little aggravating, especially when it disturbed her resting, but she knew it was for the best. After all, with all the crazy stuff that had been going on around there lately, it wasn't exactly like her blood pressure could stay regular by itself.

As she swallowed the first pill and absent-mindedly began to down the second one, Reba's thoughts began to drift to all the craziness that had taken place the last couple of months. After finding out that Cheyenne was expecting another child, Van finally relented to taking the offer with Norris Realty, so he and Reba parted ways and in a matter of weeks he became one of the most valuable employees at the firm. With that, of course, came one of Van's greatest joys in life: money. He received a huge pay increase from Norris and soon he and Cheyenne had more than enough money to buy a beautiful house just a couple of blocks down the street. Although it was hard to leave the place they had called home for so long, they decided it would be best to move as soon as possible to allow them time to settle in before the new baby arrived. There were a few struggles at first, but all in all, they seem to be doing very well on their own.

Kyra, meanwhile, moved back in with her mother just about a month before Van and Cheyenne moved out. At first, tension was higher than ever between her and Reba, but realizing that she only had a couple of months before she went away to college, she managed to tone her spirit down and soon she and Reba were getting along better than ever before. Reba couldn't be happier about that.

Jake seemed to be sprouting up fast as well; too fast, in Reba's opinion. Besides Elizabeth, Jake was the youngest member of the family and after he was gone, there would be no one left but Reba. She knew it would have to happen eventually, but she still dreaded his leaving day terribly. On the other hand, he seemed to growing into a fine young man more and more every day, and she couldn't be more proud of him.

Having finished taking her medication, Reba put the empty glass in the sink and headed back over to lie on the couch a bit more. While all these events were hectic in themselves, it had been nothing compared to what really kept her blood pressure soaring to the skies. It was Brock and Barbra Jean. For a good long while now, there marriage seemed so strained and awkward. Whenever they were together they would bicker constantly and they seemed at their happiest when they were apart. They've even gone so far as to file for divorce, though neither of them has signed the papers just yet. As bitter as she was about their relationship in the beginning, Reba didn't like seeing it fall apart. No marriage deserved to die, in her opinion.

To make matters worse, it seemed that every time Brock and Barbra Jean's marriage went through a strain, Brock preferred to spend his time looming about her house. He claimed it was to spend more time with the kids, but half the time the kids weren't home anyway, so it would always end up being just him and her again. And as cold as she would try to act towards him when he arrived, she would always get sucked into acting like his best friend again; the way they used to act whilst they were dating. Time and time again, they would sit and talk and laugh and then he would leave back to the home where he belonged now, and Reba's heart would break a little each time (though she would be damned if she were ever to admit that). Then he would come back the next day and they would do it all over again. It was a cycle that was blissful yet painful all at the same time and she knew there was no escaping it.

Just as she finished thinking that thought, the door flew open and Brock came sailing in through the front door.

"Hey Reba," he called as he sauntered over and took a seat on the chair next to the couch. _Speak of the devil_, she thought as she pulled herself up into a sitting position.

"Don't you ever knock," she asked bitingly as she smoothed down her disheveled hair.

"Why," Brock asked with a furrowed brow, totally missing the point as usual. He gazed about the room. "Where are the kids?"

"Kyra's out practicing with the band and Jake's at soccer," Reba explained, hoping beyond hope that he would take that as a hint that there was nothing there for him.

"Oh," Brock replied. "So, you wanna play a hand of poker?" He got up from his seat and walked around the couch to where Reba kept the cards when she stopped him.

"Brock, why don't you just go on home," she asked in an exasperated tone.

"Oh, but Reba," he whined, "It's so lonely over there with Henry being at preschool!"

"What about Barbra Jean? Isn't she supposed to be the one putting up with you now instead of me?"

"She isn't home, she's….somewhere," he answered, looking down at his feet. In spite of herself, Reba felt a tug at her heartstrings when she saw the look on his face. She softened a bit and gave him a sympathetic look.

"Things still not getting better between you two," she asked gently. Brock shook his head.

"Worse, actually. I don't know what it is, Reba! It's just…" he looked up into her eyes and hesitated. "Oh never mind!"

"No, what is it Brock," she gently prodded. She got up from her seat on the couch and walked over to his side to put a comforting hand on his shoulder and looked deep into his eyes. "You can tell me." Brock stared deeply back at her for a second before taking in a deep breath and continuing.

"You know how a couple of years ago I told you that I wasn't happy," he asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, it's starting to feel like that again. Like something's missing; something that's supposed to make me feel happy like I used to be. Only this time, I'm certain it's not golf," he concluded with a small smirk. At his joke, Reba chuckled slightly, causing Brock to feel more at ease. He had been worried that if he told her the truth, she would get angry with him again, just like she did a couple of years ago.

"Well, what _do_ you think it is," she pressed on. Brock shrugged, feeling the warmth of her hand disappear as it slid from off his shoulder. He immediately regretted his shrugging action.

"I'm not sure, Reba. All I know is, I can't keep living like this. I don't think its fair to me _or_ Barbra Jean."

"I understand," Reba assured him. "But you can't just be hanging around here all the time. You know how I feel about it when you do." She turned away quickly and took a few steps away from him, but before she did a hint of pain flashed across her eyes that only someone as close to her as Brock could have detected. Guilt immediately washed over him. Memories of their conversation with the couple's therapist two and a half years ago came flooding back to him, as did her words: _Whatever it takes to keep you out of my living room, so I don't have to think about how it was when we together and it was so good. _From the look on her face as she said those words, he had been able to tell that he had been hurting her deeply, and the fact that she was nearly in tears when she had told the doctor she had had to get out of there proved it. It had nearly killed him back then, and there he was doing it again!

"I know Reba, and I'm sorry. I really am. It's just…" he turned her around gently with his hand and caught her gaze again, "I really like spending time with you. It feels like old times again; like when we were…" He hesitated to say the next part, but fortunately she supplied it for him.

"Dating?"

"Yeah…" he admitted. Those had been some of the happiest days of his life, and to be able to relive the feeling now, even after all they had been through, was a wonderful miracle. But to his dismay, Reba shook her head vigorously.

"I don't want it to feel like that anymore, Brock. It can't feel like that anymore." She shrugged his hand off her shoulder and stepped around him to head upstairs.

"Reba," Brock called after her, but she refused to stop.

"Just go home, Brock. Call your wife and try to sort things out!" And with that she mounted the stairs and disappeared out of sight. A few seconds later, Brock heard the door to her bedroom slam and echo through the empty house, also echoing the emptiness he felt in his heart. He sighed in frustration and ran his hand through his hair, something he had a habit of doing whenever he was upset. How could he do that? How could he allow himself to hurt her again, even after so many opportunities to learn his lesson.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid, _he thought to himself as he smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand a couple of times. He desperately wanted to run upstairs after her to try to apologize, but knowing him, he might just upset her more. _Well, at least I can add that to the long list of ways I hurt those I care about due to my selfishness._ _Whoopee_, he thought bitterly as he sighed once more.

"I need a drive," he told himself out loud. Brock took one last look of longing towards the upstairs before taking his car keys out of his pocket and heading out the front door.

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What did you think of the first chapter? Boring? Pointless? GENIUS?! Ha ha! I'm just kidding! Anyway, I know there's not much going on in this chapter, and I'm sorry about that. This is just what I like to call "The Exposition Chapter" where everything is set up. I promise the good meaty plot is coming up in the next chapter! Anyway, reviews are always greatly appreciated! Until the next update! 


	2. The Accident

Reba smiled the biggest smile of her life as she sauntered slowly down the aisle, her long white wedding gown floating like a soft cloud about her. Up ahead she could see Brock standing at the altar, giving her a smile that, amazingly, was bigger than her own. The smell of the white bouquet of roses she held in her hands wafted up to her as the sunlight shined through the stained glass windows and made brilliant patterns of color dance along the hem of her dress and down the aisle. She couldn't have dreamed a more perfect wedding day.

As she neared the head of the altar, she locked eyes with her soon to be husband and grinned even more. She felt all kinds of emotions rise within her as she stared deep into his blue eyes, so much emotion that she thought she might burst into tears even before the ceremony began. That emotion tripled as she saw Brock mouth the words, "I love you" and outstretch his hand towards her. Reba was just about to mouth those words back and reach for his hand, when all of a sudden Van stepped in between the couple.

"Mrs. H," he called in a faraway voice. She stared at him quizzically, wanting to ask how he was able to be at her wedding, but no words would escape her lips. Instead she watched as he called out to her again.

"Mrs. H," he cried with more fever as he placed his hand on her shoulder and began to shake her. The combination of the rocking motion and the terrible confusion she was feeling caused her to feel nauseous. All of a sudden, his voice came at her louder and clearer.

"Mrs. H, wake up," he called. This time, Reba's eyes popped open and she found him hovering above her. She looked about in confusion and realized that she hadn't been at her wedding at all. Instead, she had just fallen asleep in her bedroom after sending Brock away. The disappointment was greater than she expected.

"Van, what is so urgent that you had to come into my bedroom," she asked with a hint of annoyance while rubbing her eyes vigorously to force herself to wake up.

"Mrs. H, something has happened," he told her. The tone of his voice caught her attention immediately. She knew he only used his serious voice for very serious occasions and felt fear rise within her as she asked a series of frantic questions.

"What is it, Van?! Did something happen to Cheyenne?! Where's Jake?! Is Elizabeth alright?!" Van shook his head.

"No, no, they're all fine," he assured her, prompting a sigh of relief on Reba's part. "It's Mr. H." She felt her heart catch in her throat.

"What about Brock?"

"He was in a car accident, Mrs. H, just twenty minutes ago. He's at the hospital down the street right now. They tried to call Barbra Jean, but they couldn't get a hold of her so they called here and…" he was going to continue, but Reba had heard enough. In a flash she was out of her bed and rushing down the stairs. Thanking her lucky stars she hadn't had the energy to change out of her work clothes, she threw on her shoes, grabbed her purse and headed out the front door with Van close on her heels.

"Van, tell everyone else what happened and get them to the hospital," she commanded him over her shoulder. Van nodded in affirmation and quickly went into action of finding the rest of the family. Meanwhile, Reba hopped into her car and sped off towards the nearest hospital, praying to God that she wouldn't get stopped by the police considering the speed she was going.

When she arrived, she burst through the emergency room doors and rushed over to the front desk.

"Brock Hart," was all she managed to say to the nurse through staggered breaths. Obviously noting Reba's franticness, she smiled comfortingly and typed his name into the computer without further question.

"He was just brought in from the sight of the accident. Are you his wife?"

"Ex-wife," Reba corrected. "Can I see him?"

"I'm sorry, but only immediate family members are allowed into the patient's room," the nurse explained.

"B-but I am family," Reba assured her. "We have three children together and a granddaughter and…." She broke off as she felt a few tears spring into her eyes. The nurse gave her a sympathetic look, proceeding to glance around the area warily before leaning in towards Reba.

"Alright, I'll let you in, but if anyone asks, you're Mr. Hart's wife," she whispered. Reba sighed with relief and gave the nurse a grateful smile.

"Thank you very much," she said, giving her hand an appreciative pat.

"You're very welcome. He's in Room 308, up the elevator, down the hall, fourth door on the left." Reba nodded and gave her one last smile before taking off towards her ex-husband's room.

Her heart raced a mile a minute as she rode the elevator and made her way down the hall, but when she arrived at his room and caught sight of the bandage wrapped around his head and the machines he was connected to, she froze. As she slowly made her way toward him, a terrible ache grew in her chest and tears came sliding silently down her cheeks. She took a seat next to him and took hold of his hand.

"Oh Brock," she whispered to him as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "How could this happen?" _How could I let this happen_, she corrected herself internally. Reba couldn't help but feel partially responsible for the state he was in. After all, she had upset him with the hasty things she had told him earlier that day, she could tell by the pain present in his voice when he had called after her. That was probably what distracted him from whatever had caused his car accident. She wouldn't be able to live with herself knowing that those had been the last words she had said to him; the words that caused him to lose his life. She wouldn't be able to go on.

As a few more tears came pouring down her face, a doctor rapped on the door and quietly entered the room.

"Mrs. Hart, I presume," he asked. She knew he meant to ask if she was his wife, but technically she still _was_ Mrs. Hart. So, with the slightest bit of guilt, Reba nodded her head and turned slightly in her chair to face him, never letting go of Brock's hand in the process.

"How is he, doctor," she asked in a fearful tone. The doctor gave her a smile.

"Well, x-rays show that he did suffer some head trauma, causing part of his brain to swell, but its nothing that is life threatening. It should go down in a matter of weeks. Aside from that, he did experience a few cuts and bruises, but nothing that a couple of bandages won't take care of."

"So he's alright," she asked, her face brightening up instantly. The doctor nodded.

"He's going to be just fine," he assured her. At the news, Reba found herself beginning to giggle with joy.

"Oh that's marvelous news! Thank you so much, doctor!"

"My pleasure" he replied. She was about to get up and shake his hand when she began to feel Brock stir slightly. She turned around just in time to see his eyes flutter and pop open.

"Brock," she called out softly towards him.

"Reba," he replied in a strained voice. He turned his head slowly towards her and winced in the process. The doctor took a few steps towards him.

"Easy there, Mr. Hart. You banged up your head pretty good. You have to take things slow," he instructed. Brock nodded in affirmation and winced again.

"Oh sweetheart, be careful," Reba gently reprimanded him, not realizing what she had just called him. "You gave us quite a scare there," she told him with a smile. He returned her small and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"I'm sorry," he replied, his voice gaining strength a bit. "I promise next time I get into a car accident, I'll make it a minor one. Reba chuckled and shook her head, noting with relief that his sometimes inappropriate sense of humor was still intact.

"Alright, now I'm just going to ask you some questions to affirm your mental clarity, okay," the doctor said as he flipped over to the next page on his clipboard. "Now what's your name?"

"Brock Hart," Brock answered.

"Good. And what day is it?"

"March 22nd, 2007."

"Very good," he replied as he jotted down notes. "And what's her name?" He gestured to Reba with his pen.

"Reba Nell Hart."

"Good, good…and what's your relationship to her?"

"She's my wife." At those words, time seemed to freeze as Reba felt her whole body tense and her eyes grow wide with shock. She looked over at Brock to see if there was any hint of playfulness in his eyes, but to her dismay he looked dead serious.

"And how long have you been married?"

"Almost twenty-six years," Brock answered, smiling at Reba. She gave a wane smile back at him, but all the while panic was rising within her.

"And how many kids do you have?"

"Three: Cheyenne, Kyra, and Jake. Cheyenne is married to Van and has a baby, Elizabeth."

_How in the world could he remember all that but think we're still married,_ Reba wondered frantically as she scanned his face once more, but again the same look of sincerity was present.

"And how…" the doctor was about to ask another question, but Reba interrupted him.

"Doctor, can I see you outside for just a minute," she asked in a rush.

"Certainly," the doctor agreed with a hint of confusion on his face. Reba gave one more reassuring squeeze to Brock's hand to be careful not to let him on to her distress before bolting out the door with the doctor close behind her.

"What is it," the doctor asked as soon as the door closed behind them. Reba gave him a sheepish smile, knowing she was about to be caught in a lie. Thankfully her concern for Brock outweighed her fear.

"See, here's the thing," she began tentatively. "I'm not Brock's wife." The doctor's eyebrows shot up.

"You're not?"

"No," she shook her head. "I'm his ex-wife."

"Oh," the doctor replied, beginning to understand what was going on. Unfortunately, Reba didn't.

"I don't understand why he thinks I still am! I mean, he _has_ a wife and a son with her! How is it that he can't remember them, but he can remember that our daughter is married and has a baby? Heck, his wife was even there when both those events took place!" She began pacing about uneasily as she spoke, her voice rising higher and higher with distress. The doctor put on arm on her shoulder.

"Now calm down, Mrs. Hart, there's no need to get upset," he assured her. "The trauma to his head must have caused some temporary memory loss."

"But why just Barbra Jean and Henry?!"

"Well, have he and his wife been having any sort of trouble lately," the doctor inquired.

"There marriage _has _been going through a bit of a rough spot, yeah," Reba admitted. The doctor nodded knowingly.

"Well, that must be the key. In an attempt to block out whatever it was that was upsetting him, Mr. Hart must have stored away any recollections of his life with his new wife and son in a certain part of his brain. It must have been that part that swelled up during the accident."

"So what you're saying is that he…" she began to say, but trailed off at the mere shock of it all.

"Brock must believe that he and you are still happily married," the doctor concluded for her. Reba felt her world began to spin.

"Oh boy," she said more to herself as she leaned against the wall to keep herself steady. The doctor patted her arm.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Hart. I'm sure it's just temporary. Now let me go in there and assess how much Brock actually recollects, okay?" Reba nodded and gave him a small smile, to which the doctor returned before he turned around and reentered the hospital room. When he was gone, she took in a deep breath to get the world to stand still under her feet again. First the whole fight and now this. This couldn't be good for her high blood pressure.

_Well, at least if I faint now, I'm already at the hospital, _she thought, chuckling a bit at the irony. The chuckle however, tapered off quickly.

"Oh God," she sighed as she leaned her head back against the cool surface of the wall and closed her eyes. How in the world was she going to deal with this one?

A few minutes later the doctor reemerged from Brock's room. Reba immediately straightened up and looked questioningly into his eyes.

"His memory is very spotted, but Brock does indeed believe that he and you are still married. He has no recollection of the divorce or any prior trouble between the two of you. He does, oddly enough, remember your children's current ages and a few events that have taken place over the past couple of years, such as you collapsing at your daughter's second wedding." Reba nodded, shuddering at the awful memory of how she felt before she felt herself fall back into Brock's arm and slip into the darkness. She sighed heavily and placed her hands on her hips.

"So what do I do?"

"I'm afraid you and your family are just going to have to play along," the doctor concurred. "It could cause him serious damage if you try to spring the truth at him all at once. He's going to have to remember it on his own."

"And how long will this last," she inquired, almost afraid of the answer.

"There's no telling," the doctor admitted. "Could be days, weeks, in some cases even years…"

"Y-years," she cried, feeling herself began to hyperventilate. "I can't pretend to be married to Brock for years! Not after all we've been through! And what about Barbra Jean?! And Henry?! What would become of them?! W-what…." Her last sentence faded away as her breath became shallow and a sickening dizzy feeling consumed her. The doctor put his clipboard aside and placed his hands on both her shoulders to try and steady her.

"Mrs. Hart, relax. Take in deep breaths," he commanded and began to take deep breaths himself. She followed suit and after a few seconds the dizziness faded away. Reba took in one last deep breath before running her hand through her hair and giving a small smile.

"I'm alright," she assured the doctor as she took a few steps back to prove it. The doctor smiled and picked up his clipboard once more.

"Now, I know this isn't going to be easy on any of you, but it's for the sake of Brock's health. Do you understand?" Reba nodded solemnly in affirmation.

"Good. Now, I'm going to find out about checking Brock out to you. I think it would be best if you go in and see him now. He was asking for you." Despite herself, Reba felt her heart flutter slightly. She hadn't heard those words in so long, she forgot how good they felt. She quickly pushed that feeling aside however and nodded at the doctor.

"Now, Brock's going to have to take it easy for a few days, but you're going to have to take it easy as well. With this added stress, your high blood pressure is likely to worsen. Please try and keep yourself calm and don't let what just happened here repeat itself, okay," he asked her, referring to her sudden hyperventilation. Reba smiled at the doctor and nodded in agreement.

"I sure will, doctor, thank you," she told him kindly. The doctor smiled politely in response before he turned and headed off towards the nurses' station.

Once he was gone, Reba turned on her heel and walked up to the door. She was about to turn the handle and enter the room when she hesitated, suddenly not sure she was really ready to go through with all this. She didn't know how she was supposed to handle pretending to live the life she had lost so painfully many years ago. She wasn't sure that she was strong enough to do that.

_Of course you're strong enough_, she told herself. _You can get through this, you've handled everything else. You can live this life without becoming attached to it, and you'll do it for the sake of Brock._ Reba nodded once with vigor.

"For Brock," she concurred with a new sense of determination. She then steeled herself and turned the handle, feeling like she was stepping back into a world that she hadn't known in forever.

* * *

Alright, I know my whole explanation for why Brock doesn't remember Barbra Jean and Henry is kind of dumb, but hey! I'm not a doctor! Either way, I guess that's why the call it fan FICTION! Ha ha! Any who! Despite the medical anomalies, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let me know in your reviews! Oh, and thank you to those of you who reviewed the first chapter! You have no idea how much they meant to me! This chapter's for you guys! Thank you so much!

By the way, f.y.i. March 22nd second is my birthday, that's why I picked it as the setting day! Just thought I'd share that with you!


	3. The Twilight Zone

Disclaimer: I keep on forgetting to add this! I own absolutely nothing! The plot isn't even mine! It was inspired by another author (who shall remain nameless unless she wishes otherwise) who I owe much thanks to and deserves all the credit.

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"Reba," she heard him call out to her when she reentered the room. She took one last deep breath and assumed a loving smile before crossing the room to his bedside.

"How you feeling, Brock," she asked him as she resumed the seat she previously occupied. As soon as she did, he reached out and took her hand.

"A little sore, but good, all things considering," he replied. "My head's beginning to hurt less and less." He trailed off and stared at her with a somewhat bemused look on his face.

"What," Reba questioned, beginning to grow a bit uncomfortable from his gaze.

"What were you doing before you came to the hospital?"

"Taking a nap, why," she answered, noticing a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes seemed to be dancing with suppressed laughter.

"It kind of shows," he teased. At this, Reba jumped up from her seat and ran over to a mirror located in Brock's private restroom. She gasped when caught sight of herself. Her make-up was, to her immense relief, still intact, but in her haste to get to the hospital she hadn't bothered to fix her hair, which now hung in a red, shoveled mane about her face. She also noticed for the first time that her outfit was just about as disheveled as her hair, creased with so many wrinkles it reminded her of a floppy, old basset hound.

"Oh my Lord," she cried out as she attempted to smooth down her hair and tug at her jacket to smooth it out a bit. She heard a few suppressed chuckles escape Brock as she stepped out of the restroom and walked back over to his side.

"It isn't funny," she told him as sternly as she could, but all the while she felt a smile trying to break through her features as well. "Do you realize I've been running around the hospital looking like this?! They probably think I'm some kind of mad woman!" She felt a bit frustrated at first, but when Brock's chuckles increased at her last statement, she couldn't help but let out a small laugh herself and flop back into her chair with relent. Brock, once again, reached out for her hand, but this time he brought it to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss.

"I think you look beautiful," he told her with a look of deep sincerity and passion in his eyes. At this, Reba was speechless; and a bit taken aback, to say the least. It had been so long since they've been a happily married couple that she had forgotten how sweet and romantic he could be at times. She hadn't been prepared for that at all. So instead, she resorted to what she always did when situations became uncomfortable…she cracked a joke.

"I think you've had a bit too much morphine, my friend," she told him, causing him to laugh with amusement. She then slowly eased her hand out of his grasp to pretend to look for something in her purse. When that went on long enough, she put her purse aside and laid her hands casually in her lap, far enough away for him not to be able to reach for them but without making it seem like she was purposely avoiding his affection. It seemed to work for he went on un-phased.

"So where are the kids," he asked. "I don't want them to think anything really bad happened to me."

"They should be here soon. On my way out, I told Van to gather everyone up and bring them over here. That was a good….twenty minutes ago." As she spoke, she lifted up her left arm to take a glance at her watch and unintentionally revealed her left hand to Brock. When he caught sight of it, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Reba, where's your wedding ring?"

"My what," she asked, thoroughly confused. She hadn't had to wear one in so long, the question seemed foreign and strange to her.

"Your wedding ring; where is it," he asked again, pointing to her bare ring finger on her left hand. She looked down and gasped a bit in panic.

"My wedding ring," she repeated, partially in an attempt to stall and partially because she had no clue what else to say, "I…uh…I…." there was a pregnant pause as she racked her brain for a good excuse. "I-I was doing the dishes before I took a nap, and I took it off so it wouldn't tarnish or anything. I guess I was so tired I must have forgot to put it back on."

"Oh," Brock replied, obviously accepting her answer. Reba sighed inwardly with immense relief. That was one thing to remember to do immediately when they got home, find her wedding ring.

"Oh man, I can't wait to get home and change into my own clothes and get into my own bed. I don't know why, but I feel like I haven't been there in forever," Brock interjected, stretching out his limbs in his uncomfortable looking hospital bed.

_And there's the other thing, _Reba thought to herself as she took in Brock's words. _Change into my own clothes and get into my own bed._ That would have been okay if all his clothes weren't at his current home with Barbra Jean. That was going to be a major issue. What would Brock think if he went home to find what he thought was his closet full of only Reba's clothes and the rest of the bedroom absent of anything else that made it his bedroom too? How would she explain that? She would just have to make up some phony excuse to get herself out of there so she could go prepare the house for Brock's "homecoming"; not to mention the kids.

"Um, Brock…" she began, but to her immense relief the doctor came in and interrupted them.

"I'm sorry if I'm disturbing anything, but there's a large crowd of young people waiting in the lobby to see you."

"Oh that's my family, you can send them in," Brock answered, giving Reba a smile that showed his relief that they had finally arrived.

"Alright, I'll go get them," the doctor replied as he turned to go, but in an instance Reba was out of her chair and running after him.

"No, no, doctor, you don't have to do that! I'll get them," she told him before he could leave the room.

"It's no trouble..." he began to insist, but Reba shook her head.

"No really, I'll do it. Besides," she leaned in a bit, "I believe there's a bit of explaining to do before they can come and see him." The doctor nodded, catching her drift.

"Oh yes, well, alright. As soon as you're children are finished visiting, we'll see about sending you home," he said, addressing Brock. Brock grinned happily in reply.

"Here that, honey, I'm going home," he told Reba, to which she just smiled happily.

"Yeah it's great news. I'll go get the kids," she told him. Then without another word she bolted for the door and made her way to the lobby, trying to calm the uneasiness that was churning in her stomach. If she hadn't have known better, she would have thought she had stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone. Hearing her ex-husband call her pet names again like honey, staring at her so lovingly, complimenting her, it was all too much to take in again. She would be grateful when all this was over and she could go back to getting along with her life without him, the way she had finally gotten herself to accept after years of struggling.

"Wonder how the kids are going to take all this," she said aloud to herself in the elevator, prompting an odd stare from an elderly lady she shared it with. Reba smiled sheepishly at her and turned her head, knowing she had garnered enough looks with her appearance, she didn't need to add talking to herself to the list. The elevator calm to an abrupt stop on the first floor and the doors slid open, revealing Van, Cheyenne, Kyra, Jake, and Elizabeth sitting at the opposite end in the waiting area. Reba took in a deep breath and cautiously stepped out of the elevator.

"Well, here goes nothing."

* * *

I'm sorry if this chapter was a bit dull, its one in the morning and I have finals tomorrow. I just needed to get this chapter down before I forgot most of the ideas for it. Oh and I was too tired to reread this, so if there's any grammatical errors, I'm sorry about that too. I promise the next chapter will be better and will contribute to the plot more! Until then! 


	4. How the Kids Took It

As soon as the family caught site of Reba, they all rushed over and huddled around her, shooting off question after question until it just became an indistinguishable din. Reba placed her thumb and forefinger into her mouth and let out a loud whistle, causing everyone to silence immediately.

"Calm down everyone! One question at a time," she commanded. Cheyenne immediately stepped forward.

"Is Daddy hurt bad," she asked in a small frightened voice, reminding Reba of when she was just a little girl asking if the monsters were gone from her closet. Reba wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.

"Your father's just fine, kids. He just had a little head injury, but its nothing serious." A collective sigh and a couple of cheers went up from the group as they all began expressing their relief. Reba took in a shaky breath before continuing on with the next part.

"There is one teensy little problem, however," she admitted. The smiles quickly disappeared and looks of worry replaced them as all eyes turned to her again.

"You see, the damage to his head caused a bit of memory loss…"

"How much memory loss," Kyra questioned.

"Quite a bit, actually," Reba admitted. She went on to explain the situation as best and as calmly as she could. When she was through, she scanned the shocked looks on everyone's faces and smiled weakly.

"But it'll be fine," she tried her best to reassure them. "The doctor said the memory loss is only temporary, so we just have to play along for a little while."

"Well how long is a little while," Kyra once again questioned. She could tell from the uneasiness in her mother's eyes that she wasn't letting on to the whole situation.

"Oh, a few days," she answered cheerfully, "…or a few years, where's Barbra Jean," she then added quickly, hoping no one had caught on. Unfortunately they did.

"Years," they all cried out in perfect unison, prompting a look of amazement from Reba.

"Wow, that was pretty cool," she said, attempting to lighten up the situation a bit. Inside, she was about ready to come apart even more than they were.

"Mom, how in the world can we keep this up for years?! And what about Barbra Jean," Cheyenne cried out.

"Yeah, what would happen to her," Van threw in.

"And how is Henry supposed to live without his father," Kyra asked.

"What's Dad gonna think when he sees his stuff gone," Jake wondered. Suddenly the barrage of questions began again, only this time with more fever. Reba placed her hands up in the air to stop them.

"Whoa, just everybody calm down, okay?"

"Mom, this is not good. We can't just all pretend that Barbra Jean and Henry don't exist anymore and that nothing has gone on between the two of you for the past seven years," Cheyenne pointed out.

"Well, we're gonna have to. It's for the sake of your father's health."

"But Mrs. H…." Van began to argue, but Reba shook her head to silence him.

"No, I don't want to hear any more arguments. Don't you think I know this is going to be hard?! But we have no other choice! We'll just have to get along the best we can and hope that it doesn't take years for your father to remember. Got it," she asked in a somewhat harsh tone. The gang grew silent and nodded solemnly, knowing that when Reba used that tone arguing was futile. Reba smiled again.

"Good! Now your father's waiting to see you all. I need to go home and get the house ready for him so just go in there and tell him I had to go pick up Elizabeth at daycare."

"But I have Elizabeth," Cheyenne pointed out, gesturing to her daughter playing with her dolls on the lobby floor.

"Well then I'll just have to take her with me. Now scoot," she told them all as she began to shoo them towards the elevator. Just as they were about to leave, Reba remembered something.

"Hey, where's Barbra Jean," she asked, scanning the lobby for her. Van shrugged his shoulders.

"We don't know. No one's been able to get a hold of her. I left her a message, though."

"So no one knows where she is?! How can you misplace someone that tall?!" Van shrugged dumbly once more and headed off with the rest of the family onto the elevator. The elevator doors slid closed with them inside, leaving Reba alone and confused.

"Where could she be," she asked herself as she sauntered over to Elizabeth's side. She couldn't let Barbra Jean arrive at the hospital and burst into Brock's room without explaining the situation to her. She'd be sure to send Brock's brain on the fritz. She bit her lower lip in nervousness and scanned the lobby once more, hoping she had missed her. But nope, Barbra Jean was nowhere to be found. Suddenly she remembered just how little time she had to prepare the house for Brock's homecoming. She scurried over to her granddaughter and held out her hand to her.

"Come on honey, time to go" she told her as Elizabeth gathered up her dolls. She placed her tiny hand into Reba's and off they went running.

"Where we going, grandma," Elizabeth questioned as they exited the hospital and quickly made their way to the car. Reba was so busy concentrating on what needed to be done she almost didn't hear the little girl's question.

"Back to grandma's house, darling," she answered without looking down. "We got a big job to do."


	5. Divorce

When they arrived back at the house, Reba sent Elizabeth up to her old room to play and began scanning the house. Back when they had been married, the only real traces of Brock that had been present were contained in their bedroom and in the garage; the rest of the house was more family oriented. Despite that fact, she knew it wasn't going to be easy, physically or emotionally, just inserting Brock back into their lives again. But what other choice did she have?

So off Reba began, running back and forth between her house and Brock and Barbra Jean's house, carting piles of clothes and personal belongings from their rightful belonging to their new old home. She hung up Brock's clothes in her closet, scattered his toiletries in her bathroom, and piled his golf clubs and sports magazines in the closet.

The next task was to gather old pictures she had longed stored away in the attic and put them back in their original spots. She placed their wedding photo by their vanity and hung a huge wedding portrait of them by the staircase. Then she gathered any current photos that contained Barbra Jean or Henry (thanking her lucky stars there weren't many of them) and hid them away, replacing them with old pictures of the family they once were.

Next came the bigger task: hauling all of Brock's junk from their garage back over to her house. Since she now used the garage as her home office, she knew she would have to get creative and find new places to store the plethora of useless things he had collected over the years. So Reba gathered as much stuff as she could at one time and carted it over to her house, piling it into the attic and storage space about the garage, then repeated the procedure at least a dozen times. It was a daunting task, especially for one person, but she managed to get it done in less time than she thought.

"One last thing," she told herself out loud as she headed back to what was now hers and Brock's bedroom. She walked over to her dressing bureau and opened up the silver jewelry box that, incidentally, Brock had given her on their fifteenth anniversary. She opened up the tiny, special compartment inside and revealed what she hadn't looked at in seven years: her wedding ring. She took it out and slowly slid it onto her ring finger on her left hand, remarking how strange it felt to be there once again. As she twirled it around her finger thoughtfully, she looked about the room and at all the traces of Brock that hadn't been present for so long. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought she had slipped ten years into the past. It was a strange sensation.

Reba snapped herself out of her reverie quickly and took a glance at her watch. She had been gone for nearly two hours and Elizabeth's daycare was only a few miles away from the hospital. How was she going to explain that?

_I'll just have to make something up,_ she concluded as she ran over to her bathroom to freshen up a little. Her appearance had grown more disheveled as she hauled heavy items back and forth and she didn't feel like garnering any more attention from her appearance. Once she made herself presentable, she bounded down the stairs and began gathering her purse and keys.

"Elizabeth, time to go honey," she called up the stairs. As she waited for her granddaughter to appear, she turned to head to the kitchen to make sure the back door was locked when she crashed full on into Barbra Jean. Reba let out a scream and jumped backwards, her hand flying up to cover her heart.

"Barbra Jean, don't do that," she cried, sure it wasn't good for her high blood pressure, especially during a time of such high stress.

"I'm sorry Reba," she replied sincerely, "but I just got the message from Van and I saw your car here and I just had to come find out how Brock was doing!"

"He's alright, Barbra Jean, he just had a little head injury. He'll make a full recovery," Reba explained in exasperation, still annoyed by the sudden and surprising appearance by the tall, blonde woman. She was, however, the confirmation that the back door had not been locked. Reba sidestepped Barbra Jean and hurried off to the kitchen to quickly secure it. Barbra Jean was, as always, quickly at her heels.

"Are you sure he's alright," she asked worriedly, trailing Reba to the back door and then around the counter and back to the living room.

"Yes Barbra Jean, he's alright. I was just with him," Reba answered with a hint of annoyance, prompting a sigh of relief on Barbra Jean's part.

"Thank goodness! When can I see him?" At this, Reba froze mid-step. For a moment, she had completely forgotten about their little situation and was therefore totally unprepared to field that question. As she whirled around slowly to face her, Reba assumed a smile, the kind doctors assumed when they were about to deliver terrible news.

"Barbra Jean, maybe you outta sit down for a second," she said soothingly, gesturing towards the overstuffed chair by the sofa. Barbra Jean's eyes grew wide with fear.

"Oh no, something is wrong! I knew it!" Reba could tell by the look on Barbra Jean's face that she was close to hyperventilation.

"Now just calm down, Brock's fine. It's just….well…" Reba hadn't guessed how hard this was going to be to explain, so she decided to just come right out and say it. Taking a deep breath, she proceeded to explain the whole situation in a rushed manner. When she was done, she watched as Barbra Jean's face slowly went from that of concern to one she hadn't betted on…anger.

"So he doesn't remember me _or _Henry," she asked, her voice low and tense with rage. Beginning to feel the slightest bit of fear rise up within her, Reba shook her head.

"But he remembers you and the children you two had together, right?" Reba nodded slowly.

"And he even remembers Van and Elizabeth," Barbra Jean asked, the tension rising higher. All Reba could do was nod again.

"Well isn't that just dandy," Barbra Jean cried out, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation. Reba jumped back a bit to avoid getting hit and watched as the blonde woman flopped down on the couch and crossed her arms angrily. As she was fuming silently, Reba approached her slowly and took a seat next to her.

"Barbra Jean, it doesn't necessarily mean anything…"

"Oh no," she interrupted. "So I shouldn't take offense that my husband basically _chose _to forget the life we built and the child we had together?!"

"It's nothing like that, you two were just going through a rough spot when the accident happened! He'll remember everything as soon as the swelling goes down and everything will be back to normal! You'll see," Reba insisted, giving Barbra Jean a reassuring pat on the knee. Barbra Jean, however, just shook her head and scoffed.

"I don't think that's gonna happen, Reba."

"Of course it is! Why should it?!"

"Because things haven't been normal between us for a while," Barbra Jean blurted out. Reba's eyebrows shot in surprise.

"What?"

"Things haven't been normal between Brock and me for forever now, Reba." As she spoke, she stood up from her seat on the couch and began to pace. "Our marriage has been going through more than just a _rough spot_. It's changed completely! We've changed! We're not the same people anymore!"

"Of course you are," Reba insisted as she stood up to face her. "Brock's still a mo-ron and you're still annoying! Everything's the same!"

"No its not, Reba," Barbra Jean cried out in a bit of a harsh manner. "We've both grown! We don't want the same things anymore! It's like we're on two completely different wavelengths! We're just not the same people we fell in love with." At this, she looked down at her feet and grew quiet with seriousness. Reba stared at her with a mixture of question and worry.

"What are you trying to say, Barbra Jean?"

"I'm saying we signed the papers, Reba." It took a moment for Reba to realize what she was talking about, but when she did her eyes grew wide with shock.

"You got divorced," she asked incredulously. Barbra Jean nodded in reply.

"That's why I haven't been around for a while. We worked everything out as quickly as we could with our lawyers and signed the papers a couple of days ago. It should be final some time next week."

"Why didn't you tell anyone," Reba asked, still quite taken aback.

"We didn't want to worry the kids. Brock figured they had to go through a divorce once; he didn't want to have to put them through one again. We were gonna tell everyone as soon as it was final."

Reba couldn't believe what she was hearing. She knew the couple had filed for divorce, but she never believed they would go through with it. But they did. They had actually gotten a divorce, and they managed to do it in a miraculously fast and quiet manner. She just couldn't register it.

"Barbra Jean, you can't just end it all like that! You have to stop those divorce papers from going through," she insisted.

"It's not gonna happen, Reba," Barbra Jean stated simply.

"But what about Henry?!"

"Brock still agreed that he was going to be a part of Henry's life as much as he could. Henry and I were just going to move across town, but I don't see the point now that Brock's going to be living here."

"But that's just temporary, until he gets his memory back! What's going to happen after that, huh?" Reba began to feel herself become hysterical. "You can't just throw away all you and Brock have together."

"But that's just the thing Reba! We don't have anything together! At least not anymore." Barbra Jean sighed sadly. "Look, we tried to work things out and we failed. Now there's nothing else we can do. It's over, Reba. We're done." With that final remark, Barbra Jean turned to head towards the door. Before she exited, however, she stopped.

"I'll stay away until Brock gets his memory back," she said over her shoulder, "then we'll figure out what to do from there." And with that, she opened the door and walked out. Reba stared after her, her mouth agape with shock, not able to register all that had just taken place in the last five minutes. As she flopped back down on the couch, she inhaled deeply, feeling like she had just been thrown into a whirlwind and spat back out.

_How could that have just happened_, she wondered. How could they just throw away their marriage so easily and so abruptly? Reba could have sworn they still loved each other. Granted, they weren't spending any time together, but the love was still present. She couldn't understand how they could just throw it all away. Then again, she couldn't understand how _any_ couple could just end a relationship after so many years together. As long as she lived, Reba would never be able to understand how love could just come to an end.

Suddenly, the sound of little feet padding down the stairs brought her back to reality. She turned to see Elizabeth reach the bottom of the steps with her dolls in tote and give her that cute little smile that Reba loved so much. Reba smiled in return and stood up to walk over to her granddaughter's side.

"You ready to go," Reba asked as she took Elizabeth's hand. Elizabeth nodded silently.

"At least someone is," Reba replied more to herself than to her granddaughter. She knew that she would have a lot of explaining to do when arrived at the hospital, a task she dreaded completely. But that did not compare to the road that lie ahead. In a few short hours, Brock was returning home, and they would all have to slip back into a world that Reba had hoped she would never have to revisit again.

* * *

See what I did there? Instead of _one_ completely pointless chapter, I gave you two! Yay! Ha ha! Ugh, me so sorry! I just had to get out there that Reba explained everything to the kids, set up the house, and Barbra Jean and Brock had gotten a divorce. Doesn't make for very interesting reading, I know, but I just had to get it out there for the sake of the story! Sorry once again and I hope you stick around for the more interesting chapters! Adios! 


	6. The Kiss

Reba had an inkling telling the kids wasn't going to be easy, and when she arrived at the hospital, her suspicions were confirmed. As soon as she had stepped through the doors into the lobby they had all nearly pounced on her for information. Reba had been so shocked by the news that she just sort of blurted out the whole sorted story.

Cheyenne immediately broke down and cried in Van's arms and Kyra let a few silent tears slip out, but quickly wiped them away to protect her precious reputation. Even Jake, who was usually a pretty stoic little guy, seemed genuinely shaken up by the news. Reba knew that, like herself, they never believed that Brock and Barbra Jean would actually go through with the divorce, so it must have come as a terrible shock to them and the fact that they had already gone through a bitter divorce before must have made it doubly worse. Reba's heart went out to them.

Now, as the kids slipped off to the cafeteria to have a bite to eat, Reba solemnly made her way back to Brock's room. She had heard they would be releasing him to her in about an hour, so she figured she might as well keep him company until then. After all, she had been gone for quite awhile.

When she arrived at Brock's door, she poked her head in to make sure he wasn't sleeping. He wasn't. Instead, she was surprised to find him seated upright flipping through the channels on the television. When he heard her enter the room, his face lit up and he immediately ceased his channel surfing.

"Reba," he called out excitedly. "What took you so long?"

"Oh, um…." she paused and thought for a second. "You remember where Elizabeth's daycare is?"

"No…" he admitted rather sheepishly.

"Good," she blurted out with relief before she could stop herself. Her hand immediately flew to her mouth shamefully, mentally kicking herself for slipping up so easily. If she was ever going to pull this off she had to be constantly in check with her emotions, a daunting task considering the news she had just been delivered. Still, she had to try her best and make a note of that for later. At the moment, however, all she could do was chuckle awkwardly and give him a nervous smile.

"Um, I mean, uh, its good that you, uh…." Reba racked her brain for some sort of recovery, but she couldn't think of anything. Instead she waved her hand dismissively.

"Never mind! Um, Elizabeth's daycare is way across town and there was a lot of traffic with it being so close to dinner time and all and….." she realized she was beginning to ramble, so she tried to change the subject, "so I see you're starting to feel better," she noted. Brock smiled.

"Yeah, the doctor said that, besides a few mild headaches and some sore limbs, I'm just fine! They're letting me go home in an hour."

"Yeah, that's what the kids told me," Reba replied. She took her previous seat in the chair next to Brock's bed, and he immediately responded by taking her hand again. Reba tried to hide her agitation, but she could feel her cheeks flush with color as she stared at her hand in his. At the moment, she couldn't tell if it was out of disgust or excitement, but she didn't dare question her motives then.

Instead she searched her brain rapidly for something to discuss with her ex-husband, or as of now, husband. It was strange, she never had trouble talking to Brock before, but at the moment she was totally at a loss for words. _This hand thing is really throwing me off,_ she told herself as she fused at her collar with her free hand nervously. What made matters worse was that it seemed Brock didn't have a need for her to say anything. He seemed perfectly content just holding her hand and sitting with her in the silence. Reba fiddled at her collar even more as she continued to rack her brain for anything to break the moment.

"So you never did tell me how the accident happened," she finally thought to say. It must have relieved her more than she thought, for she blurted out the statement a little louder than she intended. Brock was taken aback a bit at her tone, but thankfully answered anyway.

"Well, I don't remember all the details, but I remember driving down the road close to our house and for some reason I just wasn't paying as much attention as I usually do." As Brock paused to ponder this fact for a brief second, Reba felt a terrible ache begin to rise within her. _It must have been the fight, _she concluded with immense guilt. It threatened to consume her and bring tears to her eyes, but thankfully Brock provided a distraction by continuing.

"Anyway, so the light turned green at an intersection and I just went ahead without looking both ways first. All of a sudden I see this truck run the red light out of the corner of my eye and before I could react, he rammed into the side of my car. He hit me on my side but thankfully it was more towards the back instead of hitting me directly. After that, I just remember the car flipping over on its right side and everything going black. The next thing I knew, I was in an ambulance on the way to the hospital."

"Oh Brock," Reba replied breathlessly as she played the terrible scene in her head. She hadn't realized until then how close they all came to losing him. What would they have done if that had happened? Not only that, it brought back the memory of her own brush with death, when her only saving grace was the fact that her "crappy car," as Van put it, had stalled. Otherwise, she would have suffered the same fate, probably even worse. At the time she had been incredibly grateful, but seeing Brock lying there now, and knowing the condition he was in, she would have gladly traded places with him. It seemed odd, after all he had put her through, but she still would have done it.

As she mulled over that fact, she felt Brock give her hand a gentle squeeze. She must have looked more upset than she thought, for when she looked up she caught him staring at her sympathetically.

"I'm alright, honey, you know that, right," he asked her soothingly. Reba felt a lump form in her throat at the tone of his voice, so rich with comfort in concern, that it blocked her voice, so she simply nodded. Brock gave her a small smile.

"You know, when I woke up in that ambulance, I was so scared; probably more scared than I've ever been in my life. But it wasn't for me. You know who I was scared for?"

"Who," she asked, grateful she found her voice again.

"You," he answered simply.

"Me," she asked incredulously. Brock nodded.

"Uh-huh. I was so afraid that I was never going to see you again, that I was never going to go home to you or the kids anymore. I was so afraid of leaving you all alone. Seems kinda strange when I was the one lying in the ambulance, I know, but that's how I felt."

"You have no idea how strange," Reba replied, rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand and trying her best not to scoff. The fact that he was worried about leaving her alone had to be one of the most ironic things she had ever heard in her life, so much so that it took all the will power she had to keep her from bursting out with laughter as soon as those words escaped his lips. Though she had to admit, if it had not been for the incredible irony, she would have found those words to be very sweet. So instead of laughing, she just patted his hand and gave him a warm smile. "But even so, it was a wonderful thing to say."

It was then that Reba saw that look in his eyes; the look that she had given to her so many times when they had been married but had only seen directed at Barbra Jean for the last seven years; the look that she realized still to that day made her stomach flutter. He was about to kiss her.

Sure enough, Brock leaned in and tilted his head ever so slightly. It was wrong, Reba knew it was wrong, but in spite of herself she began to feel herself lean in as well. Then, for the first time in seven years, he kissed her. He kissed her with the love and passion that used to be present in their marriage, their _real _marriage, when things between them were so good. She tried to ignore it, but she actually felt her heart began to soar.

Whey they parted, Reba found herself smiling a bigger smile than she had in since she didn't know when. Brock wore a smile on his face as well that was as big as her own. There was a tender moment between the couple as they sat silently, just staring deeply into each other's eyes.

"I love you, Reba," Brock said all of sudden, startling Reba out of that happy little moment. She felt her smile fade away as she stared at him with a look of panic. She hadn't been prepared for that one at all.

"I…uh…." Reba couldn't say it; she _shouldn't _say it. After all, they weren't really married. All of this would go away as soon as his memory returned. But what was she to do? What would Brock think when the person he thought was his own wife wouldn't tell him she loved him back? "I….I…." She was about to stammer on further when suddenly the doctor entered the room. Reba turned around in her chair and let out a small sigh of relief.

"Oh thank goodness," she called out unintentionally as she stood up from her seat to greet him. _Saved by the doctor!_

"What," Brock cried out with confusion at Reba's statement. Reba whirled around to give him a sheepish smile.

"I mean thank goodness you get to go home now! Right doctor," she asked, mentally patting herself on the back for being able to recover so quickly that time. The doctor gave her a smile.

"That's right, Mrs. Hart. You and Mr. Hart are free to go whenever you're ready. There are just a few papers you need to sign before you leave."

"Oh, I'll take care of that," Reba insisted, suddenly dying to get out of the room. "Brock, why don't you get ready while I do that and then we'll go home?"

"Sure thing, honey," Brock answered as he slowly arose from bed. All of a sudden Reba realized something.

"Oh, are you sure you don't need me to stay and help you?" She gave a look of concern to the various scratches and bruises all up and down his legs and arms. Brock gave her a reassuring smile.

"No, I'm fine Reba. You go ahead and take care of the paperwork. I want to get out of here as soon as possible!"

"Don't worry, Mrs. Hart," the doctor said with a smile, "I'll stick around and help him if he needs it."

"Hmm, being helped by a male doctor instead of my pretty wife…sounds like fun," Brock joked as he began to slip on his jeans. Reba heard the doctor chuckle as she quietly slipped out of the room. As soon as she was free, she leaned her back against a wall and took in a deep breath. She had kissed Brock. The scene played again over and over in her mind. She had kissed him and actually enjoyed it. How could she do such a thing?

_He's not mine_, she told herself. _He'll go away as soon as his memory returns. He's not mine._ She just had to keep reminding herself of that fact over and over again. She couldn't get attached to that life she had been thrown back into, no matter how much she secretly wanted it. There was no way! She couldn't let herself get lost in that fake world when she knew it was going to come crashing down once Brock remembers everything. She didn't think her heart could take losing it again.

Reba sighed loudly with frustration as she made her way to the nurses' station to fill out the rest of the paperwork. _Why does this have to be so hard, _she wondered as she took a seat and began absent-mindedly signing release forms. Suddenly it dawned on her. Maybe it didn't have to be as hard as she thought. She survived so much worse in her life, maybe she could get through this too. All she had to do was just harden her heart and never let her guard down. That way she wouldn't gain or lose anything when all this was over. It couldn't be healthy, she realized, but she figured she had no choice. It was probably the only way she would ever be able to get through that mess without going stark-raving mad.

_He's going to leave, _Reba told herself firmly, _and don't you ever forget that._


	7. Bedtime

The release process had taken longer than the doctors had promised, and it was already close to midnight by the time the family returned to Reba's house. As soon as they all stepped through the front door, Elizabeth plopped herself down on the floor and closed her little eyes. Reba chuckled lightly.

"Elizabeth, get on up honey, your momma and daddy are gonna take you home. Van, go on and…" Reba started to say, but when she turned to look at him, she found Van leaning against the doorframe, his eyes shut tight and the tiniest bit of drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. Cheyenne, meanwhile, had leaned up against Van's arm and was beginning to snore lightly. Reba rolled her eyes and shook her head at the sight of them.

"Come on, you two, get up and go on home," she told them as she swatted Cheyenne on the arm. She jumped up with surprise, startling Van up in the process and causing him to bonk his head against the doorframe.

"Van, you gotta stop punishing your head so much! Your itty bitty brain can't take it," Reba told him with a smirk. Van put up a hand to the injured part of his head and glared at her.

"Come on Cheyenne, its mean here," he practically whined as he scooped up his daughter in his arms. He proceeded to stick his tongue out at Reba playfully and led Cheyenne out the door. Reba laughed a bit and shut the door behind him before turning her attention to the kids.

"Alrighty Jake, time for bed!"

"But I'm not sleepy," he retorted, flopping himself on the couch and attempting to turn on the television. Before he could, Reba swiped the remote control away from his hands.

"Maybe that has something to do with the six sodas I told you _not _to drink," she told him angrily, prompting a sheepish smile on his behalf.

"Kyra gave me the money to buy them," he replied, pointing an accusing finger at his sister. Kyra just shrugged her shoulders and assumed a smirk on her face.

"He said please," she answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Reba glared at her.

"To bed with both of you," she commanded, pointing upstairs. Noting that her tone left no room for argument, both kids kept their mouths shut and trudged off to bed. Reba turned to face Brock and noticed that he wore a smirk on his face. She noted with slight amusement that he must have been where Kyra got it from.

"What," she questioned him, causing Brock to smile even greater.

"Oh, nothing. I just never noticed how amusing it is watching you deal with the kids." Reba eyed him suspiciously.

"Brock, you sure you feeling alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine Reba. It's just…" he walked over to her and took her hand, "coming so close to losing everything made me realize how much I took for granted in the past. I'm just trying to make up for it, that's all." Reba began to squirm uncomfortably under his sympathetic gaze, noting that the moment was taking a sappy turn and could only lead to one thing.

Then just as she had suspected, Brock leaned down and gave her another gentle kiss. Reba felt her head go light as he pulled away once the kiss was over and gave her a smile. That was the second time in one day he had kissed her like that, and she was beginning to wonder if she could handle anymore. All kinds of different emotions were buzzing around inside her, ranging from guilt and shame to happiness, and memories of the past seven years of pain were colliding with memories of better times from their marriage; Reba's heart was having a hard time figuring out which emotion to revel in.

_This can't be helping my blood pressure, _she thought with slight annoyance. Too much was going on at once for her poor heart to handle, and it was starting to give her a migraine as well. She needed a good night's sleep, away from the chaos and the drama to clear her head and give her heart a chance to figure things out. So Reba pulled her hand gently out of Brock's firm grasp and made a move for the stairs.

"I'm gonna go to bed," she told him, her voice matching the fatigue that suddenly overwhelmed her.

"I'll be up in a second, I'm just gonna lock up," he told her as he headed for the kitchen. Reba's only response was a nod and a slight wave of her hand for him to go. She proceeded to trudge her heavy limbs up the stairs, vaguely wondering if it was her blood pressure or the situation she was in that suddenly made her so unbelievably exhausted. At the moment, she didn't care. All she knew was that she just needed a little room to breathe and sort out the confusion that was going on inside of her.

After tossing on the first nightgown she could find, Reba pulled back the covers on her side of the bed and began to methodically fluff the pillows in a slow and listless manner. Then after kneeling beside the bed and saying a quick prayer, she slid under the covers and turned out the lamp on her nightstand, thankful to feel the warmth of her familiar satin sheets encompass her.

This was what she needed, a warm, safe, and familiar place to clear her head and sort her thoughts. She had always loved that time of the day, the time when she could just lay in bed and float in a place between consciousness and dreams, where she was still awake enough to think logically but comfortable enough to see her problems in a calmer light. It was very soothing, almost like a bubble bath, and was often where she got her best ideas for solving her problems or even lyrics for songs she wrote. There she could be alone with just her and her thoughts. She was happily about to close her eyes and revel in that time when she noticed Brock enter the room and slip into their bathroom. Suddenly the reality of the situation hit her.

She wasn't alone anymore.

Brock was back and he was about to slip into the same bed and sleep right beside her, something that hadn't occurred in seven long years, and surely shouldn't occur when they were divorced and he was soon about to be single again. But what was Reba to do? She couldn't exactly kick him out of their own bed; what would he think of that? Hurriedly she tried to rack her brain for solutions, but she wasn't fast enough. Brock soon emerged from their bathroom in nothing but boxers and socks. He pulled back the covers on his side and slipped in silently, clicking off the lamp on his side in the process.

Reba could feel herself start to shiver a bit as she felt the heat of his body so close to her own. She discreetly tried to scoot over to as far over to the edge of the bed as possible, so much so that she could feel herself begin to teeter over it.

_Oh well this is comfortable, _she thought sarcastically as she stared over the edge of the bed. At that rate, she was sure by the end of the night she would come face to face with the floor, so reluctantly she scooted closer to Brock and pulled the covers about her tightly.

_This won't be so bad, _she tried to convince herself as she closed her eyes. _As long as we're on separate sides of the bed, we'll be alright. _Apparently, those were her famous last words, for all of a sudden she felt the bed begin to jostle. Before she knew it, Brock had positioned himself on top of her.

_Oh dear Lord, _she thought with the up most panic as he captured her lips with his with a fiery passion.

"Brock…" she said between kisses, "what are you doing?"

"My head doesn't hurt anymore," he responded in a low sultry voice. Reba's panic doubled as his kisses came with more fever and he began making his way down to her neck and shoulders. Reba had no idea what to do. Everything within her desperately wanted to flip him off of her and slap him upside the head for being so forward, but she couldn't. Brock believed they were happily married and that's what happily married people did. But in spite of that fact, she couldn't allow it to continue. Not only was it morally wrong, she was pretty sure that somewhere it was illegal.

"Brock, we can't," she said as she placed her hands on his chest and gently pushed him up just before he got a chance to take kisses farther south.

"Why not," he questioned as he attempted to give her another kiss, but she pushed him up again just before he could.

"Because, uh…" apparently she hadn't thought the whole thing through, "because…because the doctor said that you shouldn't do any strenuous activity for a while!" She sighed slightly with relief at the fact that she was able to come up with a plausible excuse.

"But I feel fine Reba," Brock insisted, "and besides…I like _this_ kind of strenuous activity." He gave her a mischievous smile as she groaned inwardly. She had forgotten how persistent he could be.

"Please Brock; it would make me feel better if you just rested awhile, okay," she half pleaded with him, and it wasn't wholly a lie either. Besides the fact that she wanted to prevent what was just about to take place, she was asking in genuine concern of health. And apparently it showed too, for Brock looked deep into her eyes and sighed.

"I guess you're right," he conceded as he flipped off of her and rolled over back to his side of the bed. "I guess we should hold off for a while."

"I couldn't agree with you more," Reba replied, a tiny bit of the relief she felt leaking into her voice. She turned over on her side to face away from Brock as he leaned over once more and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

"Good night, Reba," he told her as he settled into bed for good.

"Good night Brock," she responded as she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, prepared to let sleep take her away. Before it could, she heard him call to her once more.

"Reba…"

"Yeah Brock," she asked tiredly, her eyes still shut tight.

"I love you," he told her simply. Reba's eyes popped open with shock and she swallowed hard, not exactly sure what to say or do next.

"Uh…I, uh, l-love you too," she replied, fumbling over every word with anxiety. She knew she didn't sound convincing at all, but she hoped for the moment he would accept it. Apparently he did, for she heard a slight snoring sound a few minutes later. Sighing with relief, she settled back down and closed her eyes yet again. Her head was pounding with the stress from throughout the day, not able to believe just how much had taken place. It amazed her how quickly her life had turned completely upside down again.

The only other time she had gone through so much chaos in one day was when she found out that Brock was leaving her and Cheyenne was pregnant. Now everything seemed to be going in the opposite direction, Brock was back in her life and they were all going to have to act like a nice, normal family again. She knew she could survive through anything, she had proven that once before, but she just wasn't sure if she wanted to again. It was only day one and her head was just about ready to explode.

_It's going be a long...whatever it'll be, _she thought with dread as she gently massaged her temples. There was still God knows how many days or weeks before he would get his memory back, and she had enough trouble just saying three simple words to the man she slept beside. How was she supposed to fake her way through all her other wifely duties, such as acting civil towards him or kissing him or….the other things?

Reba groaned loudly at the prospect…perhaps too loudly for she felt Brock stir lightly. Her hand flew over her mouth with shame and she turned slightly to see if she had awoken him. Thankfully she hadn't. She sighed (quietly) with relief and pulled the covers up to her chin, closing her eyes and prepared to let sleep whisk her away from the disarray and the mess that had been her day.


	8. A Very Spotted Memory

The next morning, Reba was shocked wide awake and up into a sitting position when she opened her eyes to find Brock's face just inches away from her own. She sighed half out of relief and half out of annoyance as she put a hand to cover her now racing heart. Apparently she still wasn't adjusted to waking up to find someone lying next to her again. She ran a hand through her tousled red hair and glanced over at the clock by her bed. Six a.m.; time to get up and start the day. She sighed once more and threw back the covers, shivering at the cold air that immediately hit her when she did. She proceeded to quickly scurry over to the bathroom and hop into a nice warm shower.

As she let the water soak into her hair and run down the length of her figure, her mind began to contemplate all that lay ahead of her that day. She was about to step into the role of loving wife again, something that made her temples pound with anxiety. Reba had grown so accustomed to not being that person anymore; she wasn't sure she would be able to do it and was pretty confident she was going to slip up somehow. Her only hope was that it wouldn't be so obvious to where Brock would become suspicious of anything. She didn't want to be responsible for sending his brain on the fritz.

Just as she was about to finish up her shower, she heard the door to the bathroom swing open with a loud creak, causing her heart to jump up into her throat.

"Good morning, dear," she heard Brock call out to her over the roar of the rushing water. Reba's hand immediately flew to her mouth to stifle the scream she was about to let out. Her ex-husband was in the bathroom as she was taking a shower, and the only thing that was standing between him and her being totally exposed was a flimsy little shower curtain. She took a moment to thank the Lord that she hadn't gone with the see-through curtain with the flower decals she had originally admired.

"G-good morning, Brock," she called out, her voice shaky and high pitched with nervousness.

"I'm sorry to barge in on you; I just didn't realize how long I slept. I'll be late for work if I don't hurry up."

"Work," Reba questioned as she raced to rinse out any remaining residue of shampoo out of her hair. "You're going to work? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I know what you're thinking, but my head feels fine. Plus I'll go crazy if I'm just cooped up in the house all day. I promise to come home if I start to feel funny."

"Well alright then," she consented, not really seeing the harm in letting him go to work. She doubted any patient really knew anything about him or his family, so there was little chance any of them would mention Barbra Jean or Henry. At least she hoped that was the case.

She finished up rinsing her hair and quickly scanned around for a towel and her bathrobe. She usually slung it over the curtain rod at the far end of the shower for quick access, but when she looked neither were there. She pulled back the curtain just a tad and peeked out cautiously to scan the bathroom. To her utter horror, in her haste to make it to the warmth of the shower she had forgotten to put her towel and bathrobe within reaching distance, and they were now both hung on the back of the door at least ten feet away. The only way to get to either one of them would be to step out of the shower, something she was _not_ about to do when Brock standing at the bathroom sink brushing his teeth. But what other option did she have? She couldn't very well stay in the shower all day. Plus she was pretty sure eventually Brock would want to…

"Honey, you mind if I step in the shower with you?" Reba swallowed hard.

"W-What?!"

"It's just that I'm running really late. You mind if I just get in there now and take a quick shower," he stated simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

_Of course he would, he thinks we're married_, she reminded herself. _Dear Lord, if he only knew the truth._

"B-Brock, I-I was just…I was just…"

"Aw come on, Reba, I'll be late if I don't shower now! I promise I won't try anything…unless you want me to…" She peeked out just in time to see a sly smile creep across his face and the same devilish twinkle appeared in his eyes just as it did when he had tried to make his advances last night. She quickly retracted back into the shower and put a hand to her now churning stomach.

_Good Lord, doesn't the man ever give up?!_ She felt a cold, dreadful feeling spread across her despite the warm water that was still cascading from the shower head. How in the world was she going to get out of this one? She had no towel, no bathrobe, and no real excuse to deny him entrance into her shower. The only card she could play was the "it's not good for your health" one again. So cautiously she peeked out again and gave him her most concerned look.

"Brock, you know what the doctor said about overexerting yourself, maybe you should just wait until I'm done, okay?"

"Hey, I promised I wouldn't try anything and I'm gonna stick to my word, alright? Now I'm coming in." Reba's eyes were wide with shock as she watched him pull his shirt off over his head and make a move for his pants, but she quickly retracted back behind the safety of the shower curtain before she could see anything more.

_Dear God, what do I do? What do I do, _she thought with the up most panic. She searched around again for something, _anything_, she could conceal herself with so she could make her escape, but it was to no avail. Suddenly she heard the opposite end of the shower curtain began to rustle.

"Okay, I'm coming in, honey," Brock called out, causing her heart to freeze up in its place. What could she do?

_Maybe if I time this just right, _she thought with a bit of hope. She placed her hand on the shower curtain and prepared herself. Just as she saw Brock place one foot inside the shower at the opposite end, she pulled back the shower curtain at her end as fast as she could and hopped out. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw that she had indeed timed it just right. Brock had hopped in just as she had hopped out.

"Sorry Brock, I just realized I'm running late too! Shower's all warm for you though! I'm gonna go get dressed," she quickly called to him as she rushed to wrap herself up in her towel. Then without another word she sprinted out of the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Leaning up against the door frame, she silently thanked the Lord she was able to make it out in time. That incident had come closer to disaster than the night before, and it was starting to take a toll on her nerves. On the way home with Brock from the hospital, she had thought she mentally and emotionally prepared herself for anything, but apparently she was wrong. There were _a lot_ of things about married life that she hadn't counted on and long since forgotten, like how comfortable she and Brock apparently were with each other when they had been married. How in the world was she expected to act that comfortable with him again?

Reba sighed. "Oh well," she whispered aloud to herself, "better get dressed before Brock offers to join in on _that_ too!"

* * *

About an hour later, Reba was completely dressed and ready for the day. Since Kyra started volunteering to take Jake to school, neither really had much time for big breakfasts in the morning and usually just picked something up on the way. As a result, Reba had been relieved of the duty of slaving over the stove so early in the morning, something that she couldn't be happier about. Instead, she just nonchalantly sauntered into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee, enjoying the stillness of the moment.

"Hey honey," she suddenly heard Brock say as he rushed into the kitchen. He walked over to her and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before looking around the kitchen with confusion. "Where's breakfast?"

_Crap,_ she cursed inwardly. Guess those relaxing days were over, at least for the time being. Starting the next day, she would have to be loving wife again and start making breakfast for her husband. At the moment, however, she guessed she would just have to make an excuse.

"Sorry Brock, I guess with all the craziness of yesterday, I just…forgot," she said flimsily. She knew it was a lame excuse, but again he seemed to buy it, probably out a sympathy she figured.

"It's all right; I'll just grab something on the way to work." Reba nodded in response as she glanced at her watch and quickly downed the rest of her coffee. She had three open houses to show that day and a pile of paperwork waiting for her on her desk; she figured she had better get a move on if she didn't want to put in any overtime today. After tossing her now empty cup in the sink, she rushed passed Brock and ran over to the living room to grab her briefcase.

"Reba, don't you think you're a little overdressed," she heard him ask as he followed her out from the kitchen and into the living room. She quickly looked down at her black velvet pants, matching camisole, and long jacket before continuing her search for her briefcase. It wasn't any fancier than what she usually wore, so she glanced over at him to give a quick look of confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's a nice outfit, but nobody's really gonna see it considering you wear a smock all day." At those words, Reba froze mid-step and nearly stumbled. _Smock, _she thought with utter horror as she turned to face him. That must mean…

"Besides, it's not like you have to worry about impressing your boss or anything. You're already married to him," he added with a chuckle. Reba giggled nervously and gave him a wane smile before turning around and assuming a worried look.

_Brock thinks I still work as his dental assistant, _she cried inwardly. _How am I going to explain that one?!_

"Okay, I'm gonna go get the car started, you coming," he asked with a quick glance at his watch. Reba gulped.

"Umm, y-yeah, in a second, I just have a quick phone call to make."

"Alright, I'll be outside waiting," he replied as he grabbed his coat from the rack by the door. He proceeded to slip it on quickly before grabbing his keys and heading out the front door. As soon as he closed the door behind him, Reba made a mad dash for the phone in the kitchen and quickly punched in her daughter's home phone number. A groggy sounding voice answered a few rings later.

"Hello," she heard her son-in-law say.

"Van! It's Reba! Please tell me you don't have any houses to show today!"

"Just one in the late afternoon, why?"

_Well, that explains the sleeping in_, she thought to herself as she began pacing about the kitchen with anxiety.

"Van, I need you to do me a favor. I need you to get up and get dressed as fast as you can and show my open houses for me."

"Mrs. H, I never figured you to be the type to be too lazy to do your own work," he reprimanded her, his voice still low and heavy with drowsiness.

"Van, I am _not_ too lazy! Brock thinks I still work for him in his dental office," she explained, her volume of her tone rising higher with frustration.

"What?! Why would he think that?"

"Gee, I don't know, maybe it has something to do with the fact that he hit his head, you mo-ron," she yelled. She could almost picture her son-in-law wincing as he pulled the phone away from his ear.

"Alright, alright, I'll do it! Just give me about three hours to gather myself."

"Van, you don't have three hours! My first open house is in an hour and a half. Get up!"

"But Mrs. H., I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. Cheyenne was up all night with morning sickness." Reba heard him chuckle as if he made some clever little pun. "So anyway, I need my beauty rest so I can sell houses."

"That doesn't make any sense," she retorted with frustration.

"Yes it does! People don't only buy houses from me because I'm a good salesman; they do it because I'm pretty. And to be pretty, I need my beauty rest. It's all in the technique, Mrs. H."

"Van," she replied, her voice low and threatening, "if you don't get your butt down to Brock's dental office in one hour, I will hunt you down, and you better believe I will have a switch from the whippin' tree!" There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line.

"I can be there in forty five minutes," Van cried a few seconds later. And with that, there came a click on the other end of the line, indicating that he had hung up. Reba smiled to herself with satisfaction and proceeded to gather her coat and purse and dash off to the car.

_This certainly will prove to be an interesting day,_ Reba thought to herself as she climbed into the passenger's seat beside her…whatever he was. The day before, she and Brock hadn't really had a chance to talk to one another, so she was curious to see what it was that he actually remembered from their life together. The fact that he still believed she worked for him in his dental office went to show how spotted his memory actually was; she hadn't done that since a couple of months before Jake was born. As much as she dreaded stepping back into her former life, she really was anxious to see what the day would reveal about his current memory.

"Ready," she heard Brock as beside her after she settled in and buckled her seatbelt.

"As I'll ever be," she replied more to herself than to anyone else. Brock smiled in a slightly confused manner and started up the car. Shortly after they were driving down the freeway, heading to Brock's dental office and, at least for Reba, back to a past that she thought had disappeared forever.

* * *

Dear Lord, that ending was cornier than I thought it would be. Ha ha! Ugh, I'm sorry for the delay and the below par chapter, folks. My classes this semester are keeping me far busier than I expected. They got my brain all scrambled up, and the fact that I'm coming down with a cold can't help. I promise I'll do better on the next chapter, just please bear with me! 


	9. Picking a Fight

Well, Reba had suspected it was going to be an interesting day, and she certainly was proven correct. From the moment she hopped into that car, the reality of just how bizarre that day was going to be became evident.

The first odd occurrence was the conversation that took place between her and Brock on the way to the office. She had never had trouble talking to him before, but now it seemed that she had to be walking on eggshells whenever she was around him. She discovered that she had to be aware of every word that came out of her mouth, fearing that if she talked about the wrong memory or referenced to something that he had no recollection of, it would send his suspicions flying or cause him some serious head trauma. This led to some long pauses between sentences on her part, adding to the tension that she could feel mounting between them. She hoped beyond hope that Brock wouldn't feel it, but from the way he kept giving her worried glances every now and then confirmed that he did. Luckily he was merciful enough to take it upon himself to keep the conversation flowing.

Because of that Reba was soon able to determine even further just how spotted his memory really was, and boy was she ever surprised! He hardly remembered anything! He couldn't recall how he proposed to her, the first apartment they shared as a married couple, or even most of the children's milestones. Every little random memory he discussed were so few and far between that Reba was surprised he could even remember the children's names, much less anything else he was able to recall. It finally came as no shock to Reba that he believed they were a happily married couple, what moments he could remember had taken place when they were still madly in love, except for a few spotty recent ones, but even those wouldn't lead him to believe that they had ever had any trouble as a couple. It was all very strange.

After that first strange event came the second: working at Brock's dental office again. Not counting the brief stint she had as Barbra Jean's trainee, she hadn't worked by his side for more than a decade. She wasn't even sure if she knew how to work for him any more without feeling the urge to call him a monkey's butt or being overcome with rage over the fact that this was where Barbra Jean took it upon herself to "comfort" Brock as Reba and him were going through their separation. Just the thought of what must have occurred right behind her back was enough to make her absent-mindedly sharpen all her pencils down to the eraser. Hopefully she would be able to store those feelings aside long enough to get through this new stint of being his employee again…and to salvage the writing utensils she hadn't destroyed.

So there Reba was again, answering telephones, making appointments, and preparing complimentary bags for Brock's patients, only this time she wasn't even getting paid for it. In order to resume her job there in Brock's office, she had to give his current dental assistant paid vacation until further notice, which meant any check that was given to Reba automatically had to go to the assistant. Reba found herself mostly in a foul mood all day, feeling like she had been demoted from being basically her own boss while she was a real estate agent back to lowly assistant.

But perhaps the oddest occurrence of the day was what she had figured would be the most uncomfortable thing to do: acting as Brock's loving wife again. Whenever Brock had gotten a break from seeing patient after patient, he would go over to the waiting area just to talk to Reba. He would give her loving compliments, kiss her for no apparent reason, and even take her to lunch like he used to. All of it was almost too much for Reba to handle, and she almost lost her composure several times during the day.

Once while she had her back turned, Brock had snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Naturally, having grown accustomed to being a single woman, her first instinct was to elbow him square in the ribs (or a bit further south if the occasion called for it), and she was about a millisecond away from doing just that until she remembered she was supposed to be a wife again, and she was able to catch herself in time. Brock had no idea how lucky he was.

Unfortunately that minor little note was the least of her problems. She still hadn't been able to bring herself to say the words 'I love you' without sounding completely unconvincing. And it was a very bad thing too, with Brock being on his whole 'I must appreciate life' kick. He said it to her almost constantly, and every time she either mumbled it quickly in response or pretended she didn't hear him. Reba doubted that would continue to work for very long, and she had no clue what to do when it finally did stop working.

Now Reba sighed with relief when she finally saw their house appear before them after having left work. She had never been happier to see a warm and safe setting, and she was looking forward to throwing off her work clothes and relaxing in a nice warm bath. Peace and quiet was all she really needed after such a tumultuous day, and peace and quiet was what she was planning on getting. But as she hopped out of the car and headed inside, those plans came to a screeching halt.

"Oh Lord," she groaned when she walked through the front door to find Cheyenne, Van, and Elizabeth in her living room, Van sprawled on the couch watching television and Cheyenne and Elizabeth playing with a mountain of Barbie dolls on the floor. Normally Reba loved seeing her family back in her house (she missed them dreadfully ever since they moved out), but at the current moment she was not in the mood to socialize.

"Hey gang," Brock called out excitedly, obviously feeling totally opposite from Reba. "How are things going?"

"Great daddy," Cheyenne replied as she looked up from the doll she was dressing to give him a smile. "We just came over to see how you were feeling."

"Oh I'm feeling fine! Things are finally starting to feel like they're getting back to normal, what with me going to work with your mom by my side." He took a moment to smile at Reba, which she half-heartedly returned before letting her face fall with exhaustion again. "How's work for you Van?"

"Oh it's great. It was a little tough today considering all the _extra _work I had to do today…" he took a moment to give Reba a poignant look, to which she just scowled at in return. "But besides that, things are going great! Top seller! Right here!" Reba rolled her eyes. Every time someone asked Van how work was going he made sure to end his answer with that exclamation, no matter how inappropriate it may have been. It was starting to take a toll on her nerves, but there really was no point in getting after him for it. Instead she removed her coat and slung it on the coat rack along with her purse and sighed. If she had any luck at all Elizabeth would began to get fussy and force them all to go home.

_Oh what a horrible thing to think about my own children, _she thought with the slightest bit of guilt. That guilt quickly subsided, however, when out of the corner of her eye she saw Elizabeth decide to chuck a glass across the room for no apparent reason. The glass flew dangerously in the air in spite of Cheyenne's attempt to stop it and sailed straight for Reba. She realized with great panic that she would never be able to duck and avoid it in time, so instead she just shut her eyes and steeled herself as best as possible. But after a few seconds of feeling nothing, she opened her eyes and was relieved to see a hand holding the glass just a couple of inches from her head. Brock had caught it in time before it was able to hit her.

"Whoa, nice reflexes Mr. H.," Van called out approvingly. Brock smiled proudly and placed the glass aside on the banister.

"Well I just couldn't stand by and let anything happen to my wife, could I?" He turned his attention to Reba. "You okay?" Taking in a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart, she nodded.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks," she replied, her voice a bit on the quaky side. That could have proved to be quite disastrous had it not been for Brock. For the first time since his accident, she was actually glad to have him around. She gave him an appreciative smile and put a hand to her chest.

"By the feel of my pulse, I think its time to take my blood pressure medicine. Excuse me." She bypassed everyone and made a beeline for the kitchen, quickly retrieving her pills from the cabinet and popping them in her mouth. She grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and had just taken a swig when Cheyenne entered.

"Wow, Dad's acting like a real loving husband, isn't he," she commented with a big smile on her face. Reba swallowed her pills and leaned up against the island.

"You don't know the half of it," she replied bitterly as she proceeded to take another drink just to clear her throat.

"It's kinda cute, Mom! I mean, did you see the way he practically leaped to catch the glass before it hit you?"

"Sorry, I was too busy panicking to notice. You gotta punish that child, by the way!" She turned away from the island and replaced the bottle of water back in the refrigerator. "And what do you mean 'cute'?! Yesterday you were in tears because he and Barbra Jean were getting a divorce!"

"I know, but that was just because I thought I would never see Barbra Jean again, but today she came by for lunch and we had a long talk."

"You talked to Barbra Jean," Reba asked incredulously. "What did she say?"

"Not much. She really didn't feel like talking about Dad and all, but she did tell me to tell you that she missed you and that she wouldn't stay away forever."

"Great," Reba replied sarcastically. "And that's it? She didn't say anything about why she and your dad decided to get divorced?"

"Nope, that's it," Cheyenne confirmed. Reba sighed with frustration.

"Well anyway, it still ain't cute the way your father is acting!"

"I think it is," Cheyenne argued. "I haven't seen him act like that with you in forever!"

"Exactly," Reba exclaimed as she threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "He hasn't treated me like that since we were happily married! Its weird! I don't even know how to react half the time!"

"Well news flash, Mom, he _does_ think you're a happily married couple, and you're just gonna have to get used to it!"

"I can't! We're divorced! We both moved on! If I start acting like his wife again, I might…." She tapered off and stared into at her hands.

"You might what," Cheyenne pressed, her ears perking up a bit with interest. But Reba just shook her head.

"Never mind, I just ain't comfortable acting like that with your father again!" Cheyenne sighed out of disappointment.

"Fine if you don't wanna play house with Dad then just….just start a fight!"

"What?!"

"Yeah, pick a fight with Dad! Nag him about something until he's mad at you, then he won't wanna act like anymore!"

"I can't do that," she insisted, but thought about it for a second, "could I?"

"Of course you can! You nag better than anyone I know!" Reba glared at Cheyenne but it went unnoticed. "Just get on his case about something and don't leave him alone about it until he gets angry. I'm sure it'll work!"

"That's not a bad idea," Reba agreed. "I could bug him about cutting the grass; he always hated it when I did that!"

"Perfect," Cheyenne agreed. "Now I'll take Van and Elizabeth home to give you guys a bit of privacy."

"Thank you," Reba answered with a sigh of relief as she followed Cheyenne out of the kitchen and back into the living room. Once she had Brock out of the way too, she would finally get the peace and quiet she longed for.

"Come on Elizabeth, time to go home," Cheyenne called out with outstretched arms.

"Aw, but Scooby Doo was just about to come on," Van whined from his seat on the couch. All eyes turned to him with a questioning look, causing him to blush a bit with embarrassment. "I mean, uh, yeah Elizabeth, time to go home." He quickly scooped up his daughter and bolted out the door. Cheyenne chuckled a bit and followed after them.

"See ya later, guys," she called out as she shut the door behind them. Her parents bid her goodbye and lingered in the living room a bit.

"Well what do you say we go into the kitchen and see what there is for dinner, huh? I'm starving," Brock said as he turned to head in that direction, but instead of following suit, Reba strolled over to the window and pretended to gaze out into the yard.

"Before we do that," she called out, purposefully inserting a hint of annoyance in her tone, "would you care to explain something to me?"

"Like what," Brock questioned as he sauntered over to her side.

"Like why our grass is almost as tall as the house itself," she cried out, swatting him on the arm in the process. "How many times do I have to tell you to cut the grass, Brock?!"

"What are you talking about it," he asked as he furrowed his brows in confusion as he sidestepped her and looked out the window. Reba felt her spirits lift as she registered his annoyed reaction at the length of the grass. This was it! This was where he was going to promise to do it later and stalk off before she could object. Then she would follow him and nag and nag and nag until he finally relented and walked off in a huff to retrieve the lawn mower. After about an hour of grueling labor, he would return inside, shower, and refuse to speak to her for the rest of the night, and if she played her cards right, that would lead into another argument that would last for a couple of days at least. The plan was perfect. She smiled a bit as she watched him straighten up and sigh.

"Well…I guess I better go get the lawn mower." Reba's felt her face fall completely as she watched him turn and head for the garage.

"W-What," she asked incredulously. "You're actually gonna do it?" Brock took a break from his trek to turn and give her a befuddled look.

"Of course I am; you asked me to!"

"B-But," she stuttered as she took a few steps towards him, "aren't you gonna put it off until later, or get mad, or storm off or anything?!"

"Why would I do that, it's just a stupid little chore. There's no point in getting all aggravated or anything. Besides, it's kinda a nice day out. Now I'll be outside and when I get back, it would be nice if dinner was ready. Please?" Still in somewhat of a shocked state, Reba just nodded in affirmation. Brock beamed.

"Thanks honey," he told her as he stepped forward and kissed her on the forehead. "It won't take me long, I promise." With that, he turned and headed off to complete his task. Reba stared after him, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape with shock.

_What the heck was that, _she thought with complete befuddlement. That wasn't the Brock she was once married to! The Brock she knew would have whined and groaned like she had just asked him to move a mountain; why in the world had his attitude chosen to do a complete one-eighty now? Reba sighed. _Well, so much for that plan!_

"Craaaap," she cried aloud as she closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands. Her plan had failed miserably, and if her nagging hadn't worked to turn off his charm, she had no idea what would. There were so only so many ways she could avoid his affection shy of smacking him every time he came near her, eventually he would corner her and she would have no choice to be all lovey dovey like they once were…or worse yet, be forced to give in to what he attempted last nigh...

A slight shiver went up and down Reba's spine at the prospect. There was no way she would be able to do _that_, not even if she _was _supposed to be married! That would definitely be taking things way too far. But Brock was going to expect it again sooner or later, just like the night before. What excuse would she use then? Reba groaned with frustration

"Well…better start making dinner," she said aloud to no one in particular as she trudged over to the kitchen, rubbing her now throbbing temples with her fingers.

"So much for a nice quiet evening!"

* * *

Dang, sorry it took me so long to get this next chapter out, I think all my teachers conspired together and decided to pile on the homework all at once to keep me from completing it. Plus these are all basically the filler chapters that lead up to the really juicy parts of the story and I'm having a hard time coming up with ideas to fill them up without repeating myself a billion times (as you can probably tell). I think I'm just too anxious to get to the actiony part of the story; I'm giving myself writer's block with this chapters. Ha ha! Anyway stick with me and I promise it'll get better! Thanks for your patience! 


	10. Playing Along

Hello there! Sorry it took so long for this update, I've been a little dry on ideas here. Plus school gives me less and less time to write every day; I've been having to update little bits and pieces of this chapter during little increments of free time over the past month. It's really annoying! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Oh! And please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes that may have gotten by, I was so eager to put this up I didn't have time to proofread it….plus, I didn't really feel like it (said the college English major! Lol). There shouldn't be too many, but it's just a fair warning. Anyway, get to reading people!

_

* * *

_Reba silently prayed as she lay in her bed the next morning, her eyes squeezed shut as if in a desperate attempt to will what occurred the past couple of days to all be just a dream. But when she slowly opened her eyes and found Brock's back facing her, her hopes were dashed. 

_Crap,_ she groaned inwardly as she sat up in bed and vigorously rubbed her eyes. She was definitely still trapped in the twilight zone. She let out a mighty yawn as she stretched a bit and glanced over at the clock. 5:30 a.m., a half an hour before her usual rising time. Not even the sun was expected to get up that early, but for Reba it was now a necessity. If she wanted to prevent last morning's shower incident, she figured the only way was to get up earlier and shower before Brock had the chance to pop in on her again. It annoyed her tremendously having to sacrifice sleep, but she opted to be safe rather than sorry.

So she begrudgingly eased out of the bed and snuck over to the bathroom as quietly as she could, hoping against hope that the sound of the running water wouldn't wake him. Apparently her planned worked though, for Brock didn't enter the bathroom until much later, when she was out of the shower and safely wrapped up in her bathrobe. Now she could get dressed in peace as he took his turn in the shower.

_At least one of my plans finally worked, _she thought to herself as she skimmed her closet for an outfit. After her failed attempt at picking a fight with him yesterday, she didn't think anything would work out as it should ever again. She was relieved to see that something actually had.

After styling her hair and applying her makeup, Reba headed downstairs and began preparing breakfast for herself and Brock. As she gathered the ingredients for her pancake batter and poured them all into a bowl for mixing, she began to think about how much she was not looking forward to her day. She had forgotten how tedious and uneventful working in a dental office could be, and she had to admit she had gotten kinda spoiled after being allowed to conduct her business in her own way at her real estate company. She didn't like having to answer to anyone else or file records or answer telephones anymore. It was boring; and what made it even more boring was that those tasks were nowhere near enough to fill her day.

Between phone calls and filing all she could do was reorganize the magazines or watch the one channel that the television picked up…which was a Spanish channel so there really was no point to that. Occasionally the radio would play a good song she could sing along to, but other than that she was completely bored. So bored in fact, that she sometimes wished Brock would get a break from his patients just so he could come talk to her. Now _that_ really did show how bored she was.

Reba sighed with frustration as she poured the batter onto the skillet in tiny pancake shapes. What made matters even worse was that in order to maintain both her jobs she had to convince her boss down at the real estate firm to give her the two week vacation she hadn't yet used up, which meant she could kiss her trip to Las Vegas with Lori Anne later that year goodbye, along with the George Strait concert they were gonna see. The very thought of not being able to get her "George Strait's 50 Number Ones" CD autographed was enough to bring tears of disappointment her eyes. As she proceeded to flip each individual pancake, she absentmindedly began to sing "I Cross My Heart". Just as she began the chorus, Brock walked in.

"Hey honey," he called out as he was adjusting his tie. He furrowed his brows at her and chuckled a bit. "Why you singing that?"

"Oh, no reason," Reba replied sadly as she gathered up her now ready pancakes and flipped them onto a plate. "How many pancakes you want, Brock?"

"Three would be good, thanks," he said as he took as he grabbed a plate and a glass and took a seat at the kitchen table. After serving him three pancakes and pouring him some juice, Reba grabbed a plate and a glass for herself and joined him. There was something she definitely also hadn't missed, preparing breakfast. Ever since she had been forced to find work after the divorce, she had been relieved of the duty of being happy homemaker, at least to some extent. Now there she was, serving her husband breakfast before heading off to a job where she also _served_ as his assistant. Apparently being Brock's wife again moved her down in every aspect of life.

_Wow, I must really not be a morning person, _she thought to herself as she reviewed the bitter feelings swirling around her. Seven years ago, while they were going through their separation, she would have killed to be happy homemaker again; to have the life back that she had lost so abruptly. Why was it so different now? What was it she was running away from so hard exactly? Could it be that she still had feelings of love toward the man she was sitting across from?

"You ready honey," she heard Brock as all of a sudden, snapping her out of her reflections. Reba looked down at her plate to find that she had absent-mindedly eaten all her pancakes and downed her coffee. Now she was just sitting there jabbing at the empty plate with her fork for no apparent reason. She smiled sheepishly at Brock and nodded, gathering the dirty dishes quickly to place them in the sink. After a quick hair and makeup check, she gathered her purse and followed Brock out to the car. The drive to work was mostly filled with silence, but for once Reba wasn't grateful for it. A plethora of conflicting thoughts were swirling around in her head and they were already causing it to ache. She needed a distraction, and at the moment even Brock's endless chatter would suffice.

Luckily the traffic seemed to be in their favor today and the pair arrived at work earlier than usual. Reba practically sprinted to her work station and threw herself into her menial labor. With any luck an endless amount of calls and patients would come in to fill her time.

But as the clock neared noon, the work Reba had been distracting herself with slowed down substantially, and the thoughts were beginning to creep back to the center attention of her mind. She quickly turned her attention to her trusty radio to find a good tune to sing along to; one that could drown out those nagging thoughts. Ironically enough the only good song they were playing was "I Cross My Heart", which only served to depress her, so she clicked the radio off angrily, leaned an elbow on the countertop and rested her chin in her hand. She sighed with frustration as she began drumming a pencil against her empty list of appointments, wishing someone would walk through the office door and provide a much needed diversion.

A few more minutes past with no activity occurring expect the ticking of the clock, and Reba was pretty sure she was on the edge of going ballistic. Her head was a dangerous place to be in right now, but at the moment it was the only place to be. She wished for something, _anything_ to come out and entertain her.

"Hey honey," she heard Brock call out to her as he stepped out from his office. Reba slumped a bit with bitter disappointment.

_Except maybe that, _she thought to herself as she gave him a weak smile. His chatter may have been a welcome distraction earlier, but now she realized it only served as a reminder that he was the subject of those thoughts she was so desperately trying to avoid. Maybe next time she should just play it safe and wish for a million dollars.

"No new patients I see," Brock remarked after he walked over to the front her work station and leaned over to see the patient list. Reba shook her head and turned it over for him to get a better view.

"The phones haven't rung since I can't remember when." Brock pressed his lips together in thought and looked about the waiting room.

"Well, since everybody has seemed to skip being responsible today, what do you say you and me do the same?" Reba's eyebrows shot up with a mixture of surprise and fear.

"What?"

"Yeah, come on Reba! Let's just shut down the office and take the rest of the day off."

"But…but what if someone calls to make an appointment," Reba cried out, trying desperately to make up a plausible excuse.

"They can always just leave a message. Besides, you said yourself that the phone hasn't rung in hours," Brock pointed out.

"But it will! I know it will! I have a feeling it'll ring any second now." Both paused to stare at the phone, but after a minute of it remaining stationary, Brock smiled.

"See? Nothing," he said triumphantly. Reba took a second to glare at the phone in anger. She would have to make it pay later for its lack of cooperation. Meanwhile, Brock reached over the counter and took her hand in his.

"Come on, Reba. We can go have some lunch and then catch that new Jim Carrey movie we've been talking about seeing. It'll be fun! What do you say?" Reba stared down awkwardly at her hand in his for a moment and bit her lower lip. There was no real reason for her to refuse. As a matter of fact, she probably would have jumped at the opportunity to take the rest of the day off with him when they had been married for real, but now the idea of spending an entire afternoon alone with Brock gave her a case of butterflies in her stomach…and not the good kind like whenever she's flirting with an attractive man. These butterflies were more of the "dreading what is to come" kind.

She hadn't really spent too much intimate time alone with Brock since he lost his memory, and therefore it hadn't _really _been like they were married again. She had been safe; safe from the memories and that odd feeling she got whenever he kissed her. An entire afternoon alone with him might just be the thing that brought all that to the surface, and she wasn't she was ready to face that (or if she would ever be).

But as she looked up into Brock's pleading eyes, she knew there was no way she could refuse. So with a slight sigh, she assumed a phony smile and agreed. Brock's face lit up with delight and he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Great! Let me just grab my things from my office and then we can leave!" He finally let go of her hand and took off in a hurry towards his office, leaving Reba standing in dread at her work station, thinking about all the ways this could end disastrously.

_I could slip up and reveal something I wasn't supposed to, or he could tell me he loved me again and I won't no how to answer, or I could lose it and hit him when he tries to kiss me, or…_ and the list went on and on.

A brief moment later, Brock reemerged from his office with his coat and briefcase in tow. Reba quickly removed her smock and traded it for her coat jacket as she followed him out the door. As they walked down the hall, Brock took Reba's hand in his and smiled at her, causing those ever present butterflies to do somersaults in her stomach. She smiled half-heartedly at him and tried to avoid his gaze so as not to reveal the fear she was sure was present in her eyes.

_This may not end well._

* * *

It was about four hours after they had left the office when Reba and Brock emerged from their movie and out into the theatre lobby, holding hands and smiling. 

"Wow, what a twist ending that turned out to have," Reba remarked as they slowly sauntered to the exits.

"I know! I will never look at the number twenty-three the same way again," Brock responded, garnering a slight chuckle from her.

"Don't tell me you're going to start going around counting all the numbers in your license and social security number, are you?"

"Hey, it's better to be safe than sorry," he replied with a playful smile. "Who knows? The number could turn out to rule my life! I'm just glad my favorite color isn't pink. That would already be one strike against me."

"Brock, if your favorite color was pink, I think we'd have a whole other issue to worry about." Brock shot her a dirty, threatening look at the insult, but instead of apologizing Reba to burst into a fit of giggles. Brock attempted to hold his angry gaze, but in the end couldn't help but join in on her infectious laughter. Soon the two were lots in bouts of giggles and didn't even notice until they almost stepped out into it that it was raining cats and dogs outside. Brock pulled Reba back a bit to save her from getting drenched.

"Who said it was going to rain today," he cried out incredulously over the roar of the falling water.

"Only God, apparently," Reba responded as they stepped back into the dry sanctuary of the lobby. Both stood for a second, not knowing what do to do next. Finally Brock came to a decision.

"You stay here, honey. I'll go bring the car around and park it right here in front and come get you."

"But Brock, we're parked out in the middle of nowhere! You'll get soaked…twice! Why don't I just go with you and you'll only have to make one trip?"

"No, no Reba. It's alright, I can get the car. Besides, there's no use in both of us getting soaked. I'll go get it and be right back," he promised her. Reba stared out warily into the pouring rain and then back at him.

"Well…alright if you insist," she consented. Brock gave her a quick smile before slipping his hand out of hers and dashing off into the storm to go retrieve the car. Reba watched him dodge cars and sprint through the parking lot until a wall of rain shielded him from her sight, all the while feeling a sort of fuzzy feeling grow within her. She couldn't remember the last time he volunteered to go bring the car around in the pouring rain; she assumed it had to be some time when they were first married.

In fact, to her immense surprise, she couldn't remember the last time she had a more pleasant afternoon. At first she thought it was going to be like the last couple of days, full of awkward moments, tense conversation, and the occasional disastrous slip up. But sitting across a lunch table from Brock again, walking through the park, and going to a movie together suddenly began to fell like they were dating again, and soon Reba found herself slipping into the part of wife more easily. Once she began to relax, the conversation began to flow smoother and the afternoon seemed to whiz by in one happy moment. Playing wife again was actually turning out to be…well…fun. And there was no harm in just having a little fun, right?

All of a sudden, she felt a hand on her shoulder and an unfamiliar male voice call out her name.

"Reba," the man asked with a mixture of delight and disbelief. Slightly startled, Reba whirled around quickly to find none other than Bill, her former plumber, standing before her wearing a huge smile.

"Bill," she cried out incredulously as she felt a pleasantly surprised smile spread across her face.

"Wow Reba, it's been so long," he told her as he made a move to wrap her in a hug. He hesitated, however, obviously not sure he was welcome to, but Reba quickly took the initiative and wrapped her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a welcoming hug. When they broke apart, Bill had an even bigger smile on his face.

"I can't believe we're running into each other like this," Reba cried out. "It's been what, five years?"

"Six and a half, actually," Bill corrected, smiling a bit more shyly when he realized he had just kinda given himself away.

"Wow, six and a half," she repeated incredulously. "So how have you been, Bill?"

"Oh I've been great. I actually got a job as the head of some big plumbing company. I'm a manager now," he informed her with a hint of pride.

"Wow, that's great," Reba beamed. "I got a new job too, as a real estate agent."

"I know, I've sat on your picture on bus benches," Bill replied with a laugh to which Reba joined in. She had forgotten how funny he was. There was a slightly awkward pause where neither knew what else to say.

"So I see you grew your hair out," he remarked in an attempt to make conversation.

"Yeah, I just thought it was time for a little change," she said as she fingered a lock of her red hair. "Plus I kinda like it better longer."

"I thought you looked great either way," Bill replied with a sincere smile. Reba felt her cheeks flush as she assumed a flattered smile.

"Thanks." She took a moment to just stare deep into his kind eyes, and memories of their "semi-predate" came flooding back to her. He had been so sweet and funny, and showed her a good time like she thought she would never have again after all that had taken place. She hadn't realized how much she missed him until then.

"So Reba, I was wondering…would you like to have dinner tomorrow night? You know, just to catch up and stuff? I promise I won't take you to a hardware store," he said with a sly smile. Reba giggled.

"Well Bill, I…" she was just about to accept his invitation when all of a sudden she felt an arm snake around her waist and pull her in close.

"Who's this, honey," Brock asked beside her as he eyed Bill up and down with cold, suspicious gaze.

_Oops, _Reba thought guiltily as she saw Bill's smile fade into a questioning (and slightly frightened) look.

"Oh I'm sorry Reba, I didn't know you two were back together," Bill mumbled quickly.

"Wait, we've met before? And what do you mean back toge…" Brock began to ask, but Reba quickly cut him off.

"Um Brock, c-could you give us a minute," she asked, stumbling over her words with nervousness. Brock stood unmoving, determined not to leave his wife alone with the handsome man standing before her. Reba looked at him pleadingly. "Please Brock? I promise I'll explain in a second." He hesitated for a second, but then finally relented, walking off with a greatly confused face to the lobby entrance. Reba whirled around quickly to face Bill.

"Bill, I can explain everything," she told him quickly, but he shook his head.

"No need, Reba. It's my fault. I should have noticed the wedding ring on your finger." He gestured to the shiny piece of gold that adorned her ring finger. Reba looked down at it and felt her cheeks color with shame.

_Yeah, I should have too, _she thought before giving Bill an apologetic look.

"Bill, please let me try to explain…" she tried again, but he just gave her another friendly smile.

"It's alright Reba….really. I should be going anyway. It's nice to see you two worked things out." He stared awkwardly at his feet for a second, and Reba could see a hint of hurt in his eyes. When he looked back up at her though, he had on another one of his kind smiles. "Hope to see you again soon." And with that he bypassed her and walked out of the movie theatre. Reba just stood for a second, feeling like kicking herself for being such a mo-ron.

_How could I have been so stupid, _she reprimanded herself. Not only had she hurt one of the nicest guys she had ever met, she was pretty sure she caused Brock a great deal of confusion.

"Brock," she cried as she quickly scanned the crowd for him. When she finally spotted him by the lobby entrance, she quickened her pace and joined him by his side.

"I'm so sorry Brock, I didn't mean for that to happen," she said lamely.

"Who was that guy," he demanded to know, his angry look carrying a hint of jealously in it.

"He was just some guy I dated once a long time ago. It was when we had broken up before I started dating Terry. Remember?"

"Oh yeah," he said after a moment of thought. There was still a trace of suspicion in his expression, but to Reba's relief he seemed to buy it. He smiled at her again and took up her hand.

"You ready to go?"

"You bet," she said, giving him a smile that she hoped communicated a certain amount of devotion and love. It was the least she could do to curb the guilt she felt inside for slipping up so bad. Even if they really weren't married, he still thought they were, and it was incredibly wrong for her to flirt with another man when she was supposed to be his wife. She couldn't understand it, but Reba felt like she had just kind of cheated on him a bit and she felt terrible for it.

_Lord, I really am getting sucked into this whole thing, ain't I, _she thought to herself as they made the hurriedly made their way to the car through the heavy rain. First an afternoon with Brock that she had enjoyed and now feeling guilty over something that was technically totally irrelevant. What would be next?!

* * *

The rest of the day went by quietly. Cheyenne and Van came over and the entire family ate dinner together. Then after a couple of hours of visiting and television watching, the Montgomery's went home and Kyra and Jake went off to bed. Brock helped Reba wash the dishes (to her utter amazement), and then they played cards for a while before retiring for the night as well. All and all it had been a relatively normal day; a day that Reba imagined she would have been accustomed to had she and him never gotten divorced. It was all so foreign and a tad scary to her, but why? 

This was the life she had always dreamed of having, being a good wife and a loving mother, and it was the life she had for a good chunk of her existence before Barbra Jean came into the picture. Why had she been so against it now?

_Maybe because I know it's all going to disappear, _she thought as she lay in bed and flipped over on her other side to face Brock's back. _He's gonna get his memory back and I'll be back to being a single mom again._ Granted, not that she minded that much. She had grown very accustomed to living the way she had been since the divorce, and had grown to love the new people that had been thrown into the family when everything became chaotic (surprisingly even Barbra Jean). She was a very blessed person for having so many people to love, but she also knew that she loved her former life just as much, maybe even a tiny bit more. She could easily become accustomed to having it all back again, but that could never happen. It was all going to go away as soon as Brock did, which meant she had to harden her heart against any tender feelings that may surface during this trip back into the past. She had to stay strong before she became too accustomed to it all.

_But that doesn't mean I can't just play along…if only for a while, _she figured. _There's no harm in that!_ As long as she could keep everything in perspective, she saw no reason why she just couldn't play house with Brock for a while, sort of like a second chance to say goodbye to her former life. She lost it so suddenly the first time; she never did really get any closure throughout the whole mess. This would be her mulligan, as Brock would put it; a second chance to do things properly. She would gain the closure she had so longed for, and she would do it without fool-heartedly falling in love with that life again.

_What could possibly go wrong?_

* * *

I know, I know, their relationship hasn't progressed much, but putting them back together is a slow process people! Even though I'm sure they never stopped loving each other, too much had gone on in the past seven years for them to just jump into each other's arms again! Lol! I promise though that their relationship is going to progress more in the next chapter, especially since Reba is willing to play along now. Please continue reading and reviews are always greatly appreciated (they would make a great birthday present too, hint hint!) 


	11. Dangerous Feelings

The next couple of days seemed to go by in a blissful blur to Reba. Now that she had relented to cooperating with the whole situation, it seemed less and less fiascos popped up and things were starting to feel…well…normal around there, which was a huge miracle for that anything-but-normal family. They ate more dinners together, there was less bickering, and everything just seemed to be in total harmony. Even Reba's blood pressure seemed to calm down a bit, to her incredible amazement (though still not to the point where she could abandon her pills). Things were starting to turn out the way Reba had always envisioned her life would turn out, and that was just fine with her.

But there were still some nagging little feelings that were tugging away at her heart; things she never thought would bug her, like the fact that Barbra Jean was missing from the picture. As much as she hated to admit it, Reba had grown to love that goofball of a blonde that she had once only viewed as the tramp who stole her husband. She supposed she couldn't help it. Despite all the wrong Barbra Jean ever did, Reba could see that there was still an innocence and naivety about her that could cause you to forgive her for even the most inexcusable of sins. Like everyone else, Reba had grown to see the good person at the very core of that tall blonde; it just took Reba a little longer to separate that part of Barbra Jean from the adulterous part. Once she did though, she couldn't help but find the charm of the woman irresistible…incredibly annoying at times as well, but still irresistible.

But now that Brock was back in her life and not tied to Barbra Jean anymore, Reba feared that that would erase her from the picture completely. Plus there was the question of what Barbra Jean would do without Brock in her life anymore. She had proven that she was capable of taking care of herself like Reba had during her and Brock's separation, but Barbra Jean was still just a little girl at heart and was still the kind that needed someone to be there for her. Reba would hate to see her end up all alone.

She sighed deeply as she turned those thoughts over in her head. She was the happiest she had been in a while, but it came at the price of the happiness of another. She imagined that this was probably how Barbra Jean must have felt when she and Brock had gotten married some seven years ago. And what a horrible feeling it was.

"You okay Reba," she heard Brock ask as he fiddled with the chess piece he held in his hand. Reba blinked a bit at him and tried to interpret what he just asked her.

"Oh yes, I'm fine! It's still your move," she said once she was finally able to focus her attention. Brock smiled and squared his eyes at the chess board sitting between them, deep in concentration. Reba pressed her lips together to keep a giggle from escaping them. She had had the original intention of playing a game of checkers with him, but he was the one who insisted on playing chess instead, apparently determined to beat her at the game. Now he was paying the price. If she knew him like she thought she did, he would move his piece in that certain place she had her eye on and she would have him right where she wanted him.

Sure enough, a chess piece replaced the empty square where her eyes rested. She kept a cool expression on her face as she saw Brock smile smugly at her.

"Check," he told her triumphantly as he crossed his arms in front of him. Reba gave him a smug smile of her own as she grabbed her queen and knocked Brock's king off the chessboard.

"Checkmate! I win," she announced as she moved to gather the cookies they had been betting with. She dragged them over to her already mounting pile and happily stuck one in her mouth. Meanwhile, Brock's victorious smile had been replaced with a look of astonishment.

"You cheated," he cried out accusingly.

"Did not," Reba responded defensively, her words slightly distorted by the cookie she was eating. "See there? My queen beat the crap outta your king!"

"You're supposed to call out 'check' before you get my king!"

"So what? You had me in check too! I had to get you before you got me!"

"That's not part of the rules, honey. Therefore you cheated!"

"Oh let it go, Brock. You lost….again! Just accept it," Reba told him with a self-satisfied smile. She grabbed another cookie and popped it in to her mouth.

"I did not lose, and those are my cookies! Give 'em here!" He outstretched his hand, but instead of obeying Reba pulled them closer to her.

"No way! These are my cookies! I won them fair and square!"

"Reba, give me the double stuffs," Brock told her, his voice a bit on the threatening side. She picked up another cookie and twirled it with her fingers.

"You _really _want a cookie, Brock," she asked with a sly smile. He nodded silently. "Well…alright," she consented, but instead of handing it over to him she tossed the cookie with a smooth flick of her wrist. It sailed through the air and hit Brock square in the forehead before he had a chance to avoid it. Reba laughed with incredible delight as she watched him rubbed the injured spot on his forehead, sticking another cookie into her mouth in the process. She expected him to whine a bit more at her, but instead he surprised her by pulling a move she would have never seen coming. He leaped up from his seat at the head of the dining room table and ran over to her end.

As stunned as she was Reba was still quick to the defense, gathering her cookies up quickly in her hands and turning in her chair to keep them away from him.

"Give me those cookies," Brock cried out as he wrapped his arms around her from behind and trying to pry them out of her hands. Reba began to giggle uncontrollably, feeling the tickle of his breath on her neck as he struggled with her.

"No, their mine," she protested as she tried her best to squirm out his hold on her. But it was to no avail. His taller and stronger build easily overpowered her, and all she could do was pull her cookies as close to her as she could and fight the urge to give in to the tickling. After a brief struggle, Brock managed to penetrate her hold on her cookies with a couple of fingers and was about to win when Kyra suddenly walked in the front door.

"What are you guys doing," she asked, giving them both looks of bewilderment. Brock quickly pulled away from Reba and gave his daughter a sheepish smile. Reba tried to assume a look of innocence but all the while laughter danced in her eyes.

"Your mother and I were just playing chess," Brock explained, walking over to his end of the table and resuming his seat. Reba nodded in confirmation.

"Sure you were," Kyra replied doubtfully.

"Honey, your father was just trying to steal my cookies…." Reba began to explain, but Kyra held her hand up.

"I don't hear about it, just be sure to take it upstairs next time." Brock laughed off her comment, but there was a trace of anger in her voice only her mother could detect. Before Reba could say anything further Kyra was on her way to the kitchen. Reba excused herself from Brock's company and quickly followed.

"Kyra, your father and I weren't doing anything…"

"It sure didn't look like anything," Kyra interrupted as she grabbed a yogurt from the refrigerator.

"We were just messing around! It was perfectly innocent! Besides, I have to do all this stuff! He still thinks we're married!"

"Oh yeah, Mom," she scoffed, "I could _totally _tell that you weren't enjoying that one bit!" Reba shot her a dirty look.

"Kyra stop it," she commanded as she handed her a spoon. "You should know better than to think I would do anything like that." Kyra stared deep into her mother's eyes for a brief second before sighing.

"I know, Mom. I'm sorry," she finally relented, "I just don't want to see you get too attached to this loony world we all have to live in now. It'll only make it more painful when he leaves."

"I know that Kyra, and I promise you I'm not getting attached," Reba assured her. "I'm just playing along, that's all! There's no harm in that!" Kyra gave her a look, but Reba did her best to ignore it. "And I know my boundaries, so everything is fine."

"You better," Kyra warned as she stuck a spoonful of yogurt into her mouth.

"I do," Reba cried defensively. "Besides, he hasn't even tried anything for a while. I told him it was that time of the month, so that'll buy me at least another week."

"Ew, too much info," Kyra cried out as she made a beeline for the living room. Reba rolled her eyes at her daughter's dramatic nature and headed back to the dining room, where she found Brock setting up another game of chess.

"How about a rematch," he asked when he caught sight of her.

"How about bed," she retorted. "I'm exhausted." She made a move to gather up her double-stuffed winnings when she saw something was amiss. After a quick inventory of her cookies, she narrowed her eyes at Brock in suspicion.

"Did you take one of my cookies," she asked accusingly. She watched as his eyes grew wide with faux innocence and he held his hands up defensively.

"I would never do such a thing!" The naïveté dripping from his voice only convinced her further that he was lying.

"Smile for me then," she commanded, taking a few ominous steps towards him. Brock pressed his lips together and shook his head. Reba shrugged her shoulders, pretending to give up.

"Alright fine," she consented, but then assumed a sly smile, "mo-ron."

That did it. Brock's lips parted and he grinned widely, never able to resist finding the way she said that word amusing. Reba obviously knew it too, for she had succeeded in making him smile and caught sight of the cookie residue that stained his teeth.

"Aha," she cried out, "I knew you were lying!"

"I was not," he denied, jumping up from his seat in protest. "I would never, _ever _steal from my own wi-," but before he finished his sentence, he darted for her end of the table and grabbed a fistful of cookies before Reba had a chance to react. He gave her a quick mischievous smile before making a mad dash towards the stairs.

"Brock," she cried out with surprise, her voice breaking with laughter a bit. She darted after him to retrieve her cookies, but after cornering him in their bedroom and tossing a pillow at his head as a token of revenge, all thoughts of the cookies were abandoned and a pillow fight ensued between the couple. It went on until, exhausted, both flopped onto the bed giggling. They wrapped their arms around one another and that's where they fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning, Reba awoke to find Brock's side of the bed empty. She looked over at the clock on her nightstand and was surprised to find that it was approaching ten o'clock; she had overslept more than she realized. Thanking her lucky stars it was a Saturday, she threw back the covers and went to take a quick shower.

About an hour later she was showered, had her make up applied, and her hair straightened but with a bit of a curl at the ends. All that was left was to pick out an outfit for the day. Standing in her closet with a bathrobe wrapped around her, she scanned her rows of blouses, jeans, and dresses for just the perfect outfit.

_A skirt would probably be an overkill, _she thought as she pulled out one of her favorite skirts, only to replace it a second later. She instead removed a pair of her favorite jeans from its hanger and slipped them on. With half her outfit complete, she scanned the top rack of her closet for a top.

_I haven't worn this one in a while, _she thought as she pulled out her red beaded cardigan, _and it is supposed to be a bit chilly today._ She removed her robe and was about to slip it on when her favorite color caught her eye. She set the cardigan aside and fingered a satin turquoise top that she had purchased a couple of weeks ago but never got to wear. She removed it from its hanger and held it up to her, turning slightly to scrutinize herself in her full length mirror behind her closet door. She stared longingly at the cardigan she had originally admired and then turned back to her reflection, contemplating between the two.

_Brock always did like me in this color, _she thought as she stared at the top in hand, recalling an instance where he commented how great it went with her complexion and hair color. She smiled a bit as she put on the top and admired herself. _He'll definitely like this._ She smoothed down the blouse and nodded approvingly, but her smile soon faded when she reviewed what she had just thought in her head.

"What am I doing," she reprimanded herself aloud, pulling the top quickly over her head and instead slipped on her original choice. It was silly of her to fish for Brock's approval when they weren't really even married. What did she care what he thought of her appearance?! She smoothed down the cardigan but frowned a bit.

_Oh who's gonna know anyway, _she reasoned as she quickly pulled the cardigan off and replaced it with the turquoise top. After a quick hair and makeup readjustment, she exited her room and went downstairs in search of her family.

It wasn't until she came to the kitchen that she realized the house was empty. Thoroughly confused, she was on the verge of calling her daughter's house when suddenly she spotted a note on the counter. She picked it up and immediately recognized Brock's lazy scrawl.

_Dear Reba,_

_Van called early and invited me to play a round of golf with him while Cheyenne went baby stuff shopping with Kyra and Elizabeth. I would have told you before I left but I didn't have the heart to wake you. Don't worry about breakfast and lunch, and I'll be back later in the afternoon._

_Love, Brock_

_Oh yeah! And I took Jake with me._

Reba sighed and set the note aside. So much for all the grooming she went through that morning; there wasn't even anyone around to impress! _Not that that was my intention,_ she quickly reminded herself. She sighed once more and rolled her eyes, feeling the slightly eerie stillness of her big empty house close in on her. Why was it that she never got peace and quiet until she didn't want it? How annoying.

Suddenly she felt her stomach complain, and she realized she was hungry. Cooking, however, was the last thing in the world she wanted to do at the moment, so she figured she might as well go out and get her a bite to eat from the deli downtown. It was quite a drive, especially in the morning traffic, but it wasn't like there was anything around there that needed her attention. So she exited the kitchen and gathered her purse, keys, and a couple of CDs she could listen to during the drive to calm her nerves. She was feeling a bit annoyed by the fact that Brock could just leave her like that just to go off and play golf with their son-in-law…especially since he had the gall to tell her not to worry about breakfast or lunch for him. God forbid he would worry about those meals for her! The more she thought about it, the more annoyed she would become.

_And this is good, _she reasoned as she headed out the front door and locked it behind her. She needed to keep reminding herself about all the things that bugged her about him when they had been married, like all the times he would leave her to take care of the kids while he went to play golf with his buddies. It would help her keep everything in prospective and act as sort of a counterbalance to all the good moments, like their little chess game and pillow fight last night. She had _no_ idea where all that lovey dovey stuff came from, but she knew it had to be dangerous. Being annoyed with Brock was a good little reality check.

Reba unlocked her car and hopped into the front seat. She set her CDs and her purse in the passenger seat and was about to start the car off when a red thing caught her eye. She leaned forward a bit and discovered, to her incredible surprise, a single red rose sitting atop of the dashboard just behind the wheel. Next to it sat a note, which Reba quickly picked up and read.

_I'm sorry I had to leave you alone this morning, honey. I promise I'll make it up to you with dinner tonight. I love you._

_Brock_

A pleasant smile spread across Reba's face as she brought the rose to her nose and took in its scent. She couldn't believe he had done something so sweet; she would have never expected it. He had been known to pull things like this before, such as the time he recreated the first time they had walked on the beach together, but that was early on in their marriage. Towards the end their romance had all but fizzled out. Now there he was again doing something like this. It was a simple gesture, but an incredibly loving one at that. Reba could feel those warm fuzzy feelings she had been getting last night and a couple of instances over the last few days rise up again…and she liked it.

* * *

Hours later Reba had returned home and had begun cleaning up around the house just to keep her busy. Rose still in hand, she absentmindedly hummed a merry tune while dusting the furniture and a huge grin adorned her face that she didn't even notice was there. Suddenly the front door burst open and Van came breezing in, his arms raised with triumphant. Brock, Cheyenne, Elizabeth, Kyra and Jake soon followed.

"Say hello to the new golf champion…me," he cried out.

"You beat Brock," Reba asked incredulously as she rose from her kneeling position and threw a questioningly look at Brock. He in turn rolled his eyes.

"Only by a few strokes," he answered, prompting a scoff from his son-in-law.

"Since when is twenty strokes considered just a few," he asked with a smug smile. Brock raised one of his golf clubs in the air threateningly, and Van immediately responded by scooping up daughter in his arms for protection.

"Come on honey! Daddy's hungry," he told the little girl as he quickly scurried to the kitchen. Cheyenne shook her head a bit with amusement and followed her family. Meanwhile, Kyra and Jake flopped down on the couch while Reba sauntered over to the entry way to join Brock's side, holding her rose up before her.

"Got stuck with Jake on your team, huh," she asked him with a sly smile.

"You know it," Brock responded quietly with a laugh. "So I see you found my surprise." Reba nodded and approached him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"You're such a sweetheart," she told him before leaning forward and giving him a sweet tender kiss. Brock responded happily with a deeper kiss of his own and wrapped his arms around her waist. She could have let this continue for a while, but all of a sudden she heard a poignant clearing of a throat from behind her. She ceased kissing and turned her head slightly to see Kyra and Jake giving her menacing looks, and knew immediately she had to end it. So reluctantly she parted from her husband….or rather ex-husband's arms.

"I think I left something on in the kitchen," Reba told him lamely, and before he could say anything she rushed off to join the Montgomery's.

"Hey Mom, where'd the rose come from," Cheyenne asked when she caught sight of her mother. Reba fingered the rose and smiled a bit as she made her way to the refrigerator.

"Your father gave it to me," she answered as she opened up the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.

"Dad gave you the rose," Cheyenne replied incredulously, obviously as surprised as Reba had been when she found it.

"Yes, he left it on my dashboard in my car this morning."

"Really," Van said in an insinuating tone, "and what did we do to merit this rose, hmm?" Cheyenne's face distorted with disgust as she launched one of the peanuts she had been eating at her husband from her seat at the table.

"Van, gross! You're talking about our parents!" Van smiled even more mischievously and picked up the peanut she had thrown to pop it in his mouth. Meanwhile, Reba gave them both withering looks.

"Stop it, the both of you," she told them. "Nothing happened and I don't know how you kids think anything like that could ever happen. He just wanted to do something sweet for me. That's all."

"Wait, are we still talking about Mr. H.," Van asked with confusion. Reba gave him another dirty look.

"Don't you guys have a house of your own that you could be annoying in?"

"Alright Mom, we get the point," Cheyenne said as she stood up from her seat to leave, her daughter in tote. "Come on Van, let's go hang out in the living room."

"Coming," he cried out fearfully, his eyes never straying from the look his mother-in-law was giving him. He ran around the opposite end of the island to avoid her and sprinted quickly from the kitchen. Reba shook her head at her children's antics and suspicions as she headed over to the table to pick up the mail. She didn't understand what the big deal was. So what if he gave her a rose? So what if she had been the one who initiated their most recent kiss instead of him? He believed they were married and Reba was just doing everything she could to not let him think otherwise. So what? No harm could come from it.

As she sifted through the pile of mail she held in her hands, her eyes suddenly came to rest on the corner of a suspicious looking envelope. It was marked with the seal from the Harris County Courthouse, and it was addressed to Brock. A cold spot appeared in her stomach as she immediately recognized what it must be.

_His final divorce papers._ Inside that little envelop contained the document that broke Brock's ties to Barbra Jean. He was a free man, which suddenly meant that everything Reba had been feeling just a few minutes ago became twice as dangerous. She wanted to kick herself for allowing herself to get in so deep in the first place.

"What's that your holding, honey," Brock suddenly called out from behind her. Reba let out a yelp of surprise as all the mail she held in her hand went flying everywhere. Her hand flew to her heart and she began to take deep breaths to steady her nerves. Brock, a bit taken aback, stared at her in astonishment and put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you like that," he told her, putting a hand up to his own racing heart. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she assured him, taking in one last deep breath before going to scoop up the mail quickly.

"Where's that letter you were holding? It looked like it was addressed to me," he questioned as he searched for it through the mail he had picked up. Reba spotted it under the counter as soon as he said that and snatched it up before he had the chance.

"Oh it was nothing Brock," she assured him as she made her away around the island to the trash can.

"Are you sure? I thought it said 'courthouse'."

"Nope, it said uh….clearing house! Publisher's Clearing House," she retorted, making a show of looking at the letter and nodding her head as if to confirm. "They say you're already a winner but you know that's a lie." She chuckled nervously but stopped when she saw that she was only giving Brock further reason to be skeptical. "It's junk. I'll just toss it." She made a motion to toss it just to satisfy his suspicions.

"Alright," he replied, his tone still a bit wary. "Thanks honey."

"Uh huh," she responded lamely as she waited for him to exit the kitchen completely. As soon as he did, she sighed with relief and picked up the letter once more.

_That was too close, _she thought as she fingered the piece of mail. When she looked more closely she saw that the letter had been forwarded from Brock and Barbra Jean's house to over here; Reba only needed one guess by whom.

_That blonde buffoon, _she thought with annoyance. Apparently Barbra Jean hadn't taken into consideration what could have happened had Brock gotten to the letter before her. What had the woman been thinking?!

_What had _you _been thinking,_ she reprimanded herself quickly. Before she went off on Barbra Jean for being so absentminded, she knew she had better take a good look at herself and her behavior the past couple of days first. What had started off as just agreeing to play along with this second chance at her old life was turning into all different kinds of emotions, most resembling the feeling of love. She was slowly letting her guard down, something she had promised herself she wouldn't do, and something she couldn't _afford_ to do. She was so upset with herself.

It had to be a sign from Him, she figured. Absentmindedly flirting with Bill, her children's foreboding words, and now the divorce papers, they all had to be signs that she was letting reality slip away from her. She may have ignored the first two warnings, but the divorce papers had to be the last straw. She had to get her head out of the clouds and focus on the task at hand: get through this marriage until Brock got his memory back and then send him on home. That was it. Nothing more.

With a new found resolve, she tucked the letter deep in the back pocket of her jeans and covered it with her blouse before heading over to the living room to be with her family, but she soon discovered that she walked in at exactly the wrong time.

"Hey honey, we were just talking about you," Brock told her as she walked over to his side.

"Nothing bad, I hope," Reba responded.

"No, of course not! We were just discussing we could do for our anniversary."

"What anniversary," she asked ignorantly.

"Our wedding anniversary," he answered with disbelief. "You didn't actually forget that its next Saturday, did you?!"

_Oh shoot, _she thought inwardly with panic. With all that had gone on in the past few days, it had completely slipped her mind.

"Of course not," she replied instead, giving him an assuring smile. "I was just testing you." Brock smiled distrustfully but let it slide.

"So what do you want to do," he asked. Reba shrugged.

"I don't know. How about we just go out to our favorite restaurant and then catch a movie?"

"You mean like we did a couple of days ago? Come on Reba! I wanna do something special!" Reba tried her best to come up with something but she was drawing a complete blank. The last thing she wanted to do was something too special, it would totally fly in the face of everything she had just promised herself a few seconds ago. She was about to open her mouth to suggest another simple idea, but Van beat her to it.

"Hey, how about you guys have a second wedding ceremony like me and Cheyenne almost did," he suggested dumbly. Reba's eyes widened at the shock of the notion, but to her chagrin Brock's face lit up with excitement.

"That's a great idea," he told him with an appreciative slap on the back. Van smiled, obviously quite pleased with himself.

"Oh Brock, that would be too much to do," Reba argued as gently as she could. "Its not like it's our thirtieth anniversary, it's only our twenty-sixth! What's so special about that?!"

"What are you talking about Reba? Every anniversary is special! Besides, I don't remember doing anything special for our twenty-fifth anniversary. This could make up for it," he pointed out.

_We didn't do anything because we were divorced, _she wanted to scream out, but she held back. She had to find some other less obvious way to deter him from the idea.

"But what about all the money it's gonna cost, huh?"

"It won't cost that much if we plan smart, Reba. Besides, we can just have a simple ceremony. A cake, a few flowers, the small church down the street, how much can it all cost?! Plus we'll only invite our closest friends and family. It'll be fun!"

"Not as much fun as you think," Reba muttered more to herself as she turned her face away to hide the dread. She quickly searched her brain for some plausible excuse to deny Van's idea but she couldn't come up with any. The fact that Brock's face contained so much excitement at the prospect of the idea wasn't help any either.

"Come on, honey. Cheyenne and I can plan the whole thing. It'll be my anniversary gift to you. What do you say?" Reba plastered a fake smile on her face and turned to face him.

"Well what else can I say but yes," she responded, prompting a huge grin from Brock.

"It's gonna be great Reba, I promise. And we'll keep it as simple as possible," he assured her before giving her a light kiss on the cheek. "I'm gonna go book the church before anyone gets to it."

"Good idea," Reba responded halfheartedly as she watched him sprint out of the living room and to the kitchen. As soon as the coast was clear Reba's fake smile completely disappeared from her features and was replaced by a death stare directed at her son-in-law. She took the letter from out of pocket and proceeded to smack Van upside the head with it. Van yelped with pain and rubbed his injured cranium.

"What was that for," he cried out.

"Why the heck did you go suggesting such a dumb idea like that, you mo-ron," she retorted hotly.

"What's the big deal? All I suggested was that you two renew your vows!"

"The big deal is since Brock's divorce with Barbra Jean is final if we have a second ceremony, our marriage will be legal!"

"So," Van retorted, but slowly (_very _slowly) realization spread across his face, "Oh…"

"Oh," Reba responded, her tone incredulous. "That's all you have to say, is _oh_?!" She made a move to smack him again, but Cheyenne stepped in between her and a now cowering Van.

"Alright Mom, just calm down. Van didn't know," she reasoned, but the fire in Reba's eyes didn't go away.

"I can't calm down, Cheyenne! What the heck am I gonna do now?!"

"There's nothing you can do, Mom. He's already all excited and if you say you don't wanna do it, he'll know something is up."

"But we can't just get married! Its creepy," Reba responded, her voice rising in pitch a bit with panic. She seriously didn't know how she was gonna get herself out of this one.

"Well why don't you just go through with it and then get it annulled later? You can say that Dad wasn't in the right state of mind," Cheyenne suggested.

"No Cheyenne, that's horrible! Marriage is a sacred institution; I can't just go through them like a Gabor sister!" Cheyenne chuckled a bit but gave her a stern look.

"Mom you have to do this. Its for the sake of Dad's health. If you don't it could cause him some serious head trauma stuff..." she reasoned while Van nodded dopily in agreement. Reba stared between the two and sighed deeply.

"I guess you guys are right," she relented. "Alright, I'll do it! But keep it as simple as possible! I don't want anyone making a big deal about this or anything."

"You got it, Mom," Cheyenne assured her. "Come on Van, let's go home and start planning."

"Wait, when did I get included in there? I thought you and Mr. H. were gonna plan this thing," he protested.

"Oh just shut up and come on," she snapped back as she grabbed his hand and pulled him up from his seat. With Elizabeth holding her other hand, she began to drag the two out the door.

"Pregnant woman are mean," Van whispered loudly to Reba as he was being pulled away. Reba gave him one last withering look before the family exited the house and left her alone in the living room. She could feel a splitting headache coming on so she made a move to go lie down on the couch, but before she could Brock reentered the scene.

"Well, the church is all confirmed and the minister said he would be more than happy to do the service," he informed her triumphantly.

"Great," Reba replied with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

"So what do you say we take the kids out to an early dinner, huh? I'm getting hungry already."

"Sure, why not," she agreed, again without much enthusiasm.

"Great! I'll go get dressed and tell the kids." He gave her arm a tender pat before heading for the stairs. But before he began his ascent, he turned back to her and smiled.

"By the way, that color looks great on you, honey." She turned her head and gave him a genuinely appreciative smile. He resumed his trek up the stairs and Reba smoothed down her top with a bit of pride. Despite herself, she began to feel her heart grow tender again, but she caught herself quickly and mentally kicked herself. She had to stop slipping up so easily, especially now with a wedding coming up.

_A lovey dovey romantic little wedding with the man that left me seven years ago, _she thought with the up most apprehension. Next Saturday they would be a legally married couple again, and Reba was finding herself dangerously attracted to him again. She flopped down on the couch and groaned.

"Craaaaaaap!"

* * *

Alright, I got a little lazy at the end, but I promised a friend I would have this updated before I left for school so I was kind of in a hurry. Hope you enjoyed the rest of the chapter though and I promise to update again as soon as possible. Gotta run now! Until the next update! 


	12. Lost in the Moments

Alright, I know its been a LONG while since an update, and I'm sorry! School has been insane lately and home hasn't been too much calmer. But I finally found time to just sit down and write like crazy and I took full advantage of that time! Also I decided to put in the steamy part I was planning on saving for the next chapter as a little peace maker. It was actually one of the parts that got me excited about writing this story in the first place, so I really hope I wrote it okay. Anyway hope you enjoy!

* * *

With only a little more than a week to plan Brock and Reba's twenty-sixth anniversary celebration, wedding plans immediately went under way. Brock and Cheyenne quickly set to work ordering flowers, inviting a few guests, smacking Van for whining so much about having to help, planning the reception and gathering outfits for the family. It was certainly a lot to squeeze into such a little amount of time, but they had confidence that they could do it.

To Reba's immense surprise, they had actually stuck to their promise and involved her very little in the planning process. The most anyone ever asked her to do was approve the color of a flower or something trivial like that; the rest they completely took care of. She was a little wary leaving her family in charge of making the major decisions; she wasn't really used to not being the one in charge, but for once she was grateful for it. Everyone was so busy with the planning that they left her alone for a good chunk of the day, just as they had right now. With Cheyenne and Van off flower hunting and Brock gathering tuxedos for the men folk of the family, Reba sat alone in her living room, listening to the silence. And she liked it. It gave her ample time to think and attempt to sort through the feelings she was experiencing.

It was confusing, all the emotions that were going on inside of her. She knew that she should be dreading this; that she should be trying to harder to put a stop to the wedding before it could go too far. But there was this part of her, this very strong part of her that put up a resistance to her resisting. Once she got over the initial shock of the wedding idea, she discovered that she was actually looking forward to it. Brock was being such a wonderful husband lately, so sweet and considerate and not annoying for once, and it was bringing back all the memories and things that she discovered she never stopped loving; memories from early on in their marriage and their dating days when things were still so good. Reba didn't want that feeling to go away.

On the other hand, there was another part that was just screaming at her for acting so foolish. She was falling in love with memories again, things that hadn't been real in more than a decade. There was no guarantee that Brock's behavior would continue after his memory was restored. In fact, there was no guarantee that he would even want to stick around after it was back either. Barbra Jean and Brock may have been divorced now, but that didn't necessarily mean he wanted Reba back. There was a very good chance that he would just up and leave once everything went back to normal; and there was no way she was willing to go through any of _that_ again.

Besides, what made her think she wanted him back anyhow? He cheated on her! He abandoned her for some goofy blonde after the very first time their marriage hit a rough spot. He lied to her, embarrassed her, and made her feel like she wasn't good enough to make him stick around! How could just one week of kindness make her forget all that?!

_Well not anymore, _she resolved. She wasn't gonna let herself forget all the pain he put through. She was getting angry with him, and this time she was planning on staying that way for good!

Just then, Brock breezed in through the front door carrying two large parcels under his right arm.

"Hey Reba," he called out to her. Reba stood up from her seat on the couch and began to make her way towards the stairs, quite pleased with how just the sound of his voice grated on her nerves. It showed that her efforts to stay mad were indeed prevailing. She was about to give him a curt response and head on up the stairs when the two parcels caught her eye for the first time. Curiosity getting the best of her, she gestured down to them.

"What's that," she asked. Brock looked down.

"Oh, these? I'm glad you asked! One of them is just a tuxedo I found for me, but the other is actually a surprise for you." As he spoke, he made his way past Reba and over to the couch where he placed the packages on its armrest. Despite her earlier intentions of staying angry, Reba felt her heart give a little flutter.

"For me," she responded with disbelief. She sauntered slowly over to his side.

"Yup!" He untied the string that was fastened around the top parcel and whirled around to face Reba.

"Close your eyes first," he commanded, an excited smile adorning his face. She eyed him warily but obeyed, admittedly anxious to see what had him so animated. The sounds of a box opening and heavy rustling followed as she counted the seconds until she would hear him say….

"Okay, open your eyes." Reba eagerly popped them open; and when she did she saw Brock holding a beautiful shimmering wedding gown before her. It was slightly cream in color with a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt that poofed out like a cloud. It was actually eerily similar to her first wedding dress: simple, but lovely. Reba fingered the satiny skirt part of the gown and looked up at him with awe.

"Brock…" she said rather breathlessly, "it's beautiful!"

"I thought you might think so," he replied with a smile. "So you like it?"

"I love it," she admitted. "Where'd you get it?"

"Well I saw it in this little boutique downtown and thought you just had to have it, no matter what the cost," he told her with a hint of pride. Reba stared at him like he had two heads on his shoulders. Spending what must have been a fortune on some thoughtful but frivolous gift? That was not the Brock she knew at all. She held his gaze and gave him a hard stare, boring into his eyes with her own until she could shake the truth out of him. Sure enough, the pride crumbled away and a look of shame replaced it.

"Alright, the store in the outlet mall was having a going-out-of-business sale and I got it as a two for one deal with my tuxedo," he admitted. Reba smiled knowingly as she scrutinized the bargain dress more closely. _That_ was the Brock she knew.

"Well that would explain why the hem is longer in the front than in the back," she commented.

"What," he cried out as he held the dress up to her and studied the hem. Indeed the dress was longer in the front than in the back, as if someone had tried to put the train on the wrong side. But Reba had to admit, it was something she could easily fix.

"Oh you could fix that easily," Brock told her dismissively, echoing her thoughts.

"But don't you think it's a bit much," she asked, apprehension still etched on her face. "I mean, its just a little ceremony with our friends. Besides…isn't it a little bold to wear white when our kids are gonna be in the wedding?" Brock couldn't help but a give a little laugh at that last comment.

"Its not exactly white, its cream," he pointed out. "And come on, Reba! What are the odds that one of the last dresses they had would be in your size? You were meant to have this dress!"

"I don't know…" she still replied doubtfully, but one look into Brock's earnest expression told her she might not have a choice.

"Please Reba? Do it for me?" Reba sighed heavily. She hated when he pulled the 'do it for me' card. It made it almost impossible to say no. Slumping her shoulders in defeat, she took the dress from him and nodded.

"Alright, I'll wear it," she consented, prompting a huge grin from her faux husband. "But you owe me!" Brock laughed and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Thanks honey! I'm gonna go call Cheyenne and ask her if she got the flowers, then how about this time we go to lunch with just the two of us, huh?"

"Sure," Reba agreed, giving him a small smile. Brock smiled in return before bounding off to the kitchen to call their daughter. Reba waited until he was out of the room completely before holding the wedding gown up to her once more and admiring it. Free or not, it was a very lovely thing for him to think of doing. Plus he was so excited about seeing her wearing it; she couldn't help but find that fact adorable. She grinned widely and swayed a bit, liking the way the dress swished gracefully about her. Suddenly an image came into her head of her in that dress, holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers and making her way down a long aisle towards the man she imagined she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with. Brock….

_Whoa, _she thought as her bubble of imagination suddenly burst. Tossing the dress aside, Reba rubbed her temples vigorously while mentally scolding herself. She was definitely getting herself way too deep into this little dreamland she was living in. Not only were they getting along, but now she was thinking their relationship in terms of permanence. Hadn't she _just_ promised herself she wasn't going to let him get to her anymore?! She sighed deeply.

_Dang I really stink at hardening my heart. _She picked up the wedding dress once more and caressed its soft material. Well it was understandable, she supposed. After all, it wasn't exactly like he was giving her any reason to be mad at him anyway. Thoughtful gifts, kind words, loving gestures, it was all enough to cloud her head and keep it from focusing on not becoming too attached. At the moment, it didn't seem too dangerous, being so happy with her restored status of wife, but it would just as soon prove to be once Brock's memory returned. The only thing that would save her from suffering the heartache again was that anger she had so been counting on, and she had already proved she couldn't hold onto that with things being so good. Now what was she supposed to do?!

Reba sighed heavily; realizing it was one of the very times in her life that she actually wished Barbra Jean was around. During the past seven years, she had been one of the few things that kept Reba angry, therefore preventing her from wanting Brock back….well, Barbra Jean and the fact that Brock had acted like a butt half the time, but that was beside the point. It was like Barbra Jean had served as the constant reminder of all that Brock had put Reba through during the divorce. Now with her out of the picture, there was nothing to stand in the way of old feelings resurfacing…a dangerous notion at such a high time of romance.

Reba looked around and realized she had just been staring off into space for a good five minutes now. Knowing it would be hard to explain herself if she got caught, she decided to take her wedding dress and Brock's tux upstairs to be hanged. She also figured while she had the time on her hands she might as well alter the hem of the dress too. So, scooping up the dress and the other unopened parcel in her arms, she began to make her way up to her bedroom. As she did her thoughts began to drift yet again, as they often did those days. She was slowly beginning to realize as she thought back on the past week or so that she was doing way more than playing along with Brock's warped sense of reality; she was getting sucked into it. She was slowly losing herself in everything that was going on, and she was pretty sure that if things continued they way they did she would be lost completely.

* * *

flew by faster than the speed of light, it seemed to Reba, and before she knew it they were just one day away from her and Brock's wedding anniversary celebration. By what had to be the work of a miracle, Cheyenne, Van, and Brock had gotten every wedding detail done right one schedule, and all that was left to do was to get everyone to the church the next day. Reba had had a hard time feigning excitement when that news came. She had been hoping against hope that some big catastrophe would pop up and ruin wedding plans like it always did for that family, but no such luck (she had even entertained the idea of fainting again, but why throw everyone into a panic?). It was finally starting to sink in that they were really gonna go through with it, and through no willing choice of either party she would become Mrs. Reba Hart again. The idea of it was enough to make her stomach churn. _So much for the sanctity of marriage_, she thought.

Anyway, with so few guests actually invited to the ceremony, the Hart family figured there was really no point in throwing a huge reception at some fancy restaurant afterwards, so instead they decided to do a little celebrating that night on their own as a family and have a more informal reception at their house for the wedding guests the next day. Now Reba sat at her vanity in their bedroom, holding up two different earrings to her ears and trying to deduce which pair best matched the semiformal evening dress she was wearing. Brock, meanwhile, stood in their closet sorting through ties.

"Honey, what color is your dress again," he called out in a muffled tone.

"Blue, why," she replied.

"Well, I'm trying to figure out what tie would got best with your dress…you know, so we can match." As he spoke he emerged from the closet holding two ties, each a different shade of blue.

"Why, we going to the prom," she retorted, smiling smugly at his reflection through her mirror. She finally decided on the diamond earrings Brock gave her the most recent Christmas and began to slip them on. Meanwhile, Brock gave her a look and continued.

"No, I just thought it'd be nice if we did something to show that we were a couple, since we _are_ celebrating such a special occasion."

"Oh, if only there was a way to show that by wearing rings our fingers," she shot back, giving him yet another one of her smug looks. Brock glared at her.

"Fine, if you think it's a dumb idea…" he trailed off and turned to make his way back to the closet.

"No, no, I'm sorry," she called out before he could go. "I was just kidding. It's actually a very sweet idea." And she meant it too. It was probably, in fact, the idea's high of level of sweetness that caused her to react so violently, she figured. She gave him a loving smile through the mirror. "And the one in your right hand matches better with my dress, by the way." Brock smiled at her as he tossed the tie in his left hand aside and began to slip on the opposite one. A few minutes later, after a quick adjustment of Brock's crooked tie-tying job by Reba, the couple was ready to go. They wrangled up the rest of the family and soon they were all off to the restaurant.

Reba had been kept in the dark the entire day about where they were going to celebrate, but when they finally told her she couldn't hide her shock. They were taking her to one of the finest restaurants in downtown Houston, complete with fine dining and even dancing. She had always wanted to go there but had never had the chance; she was incredibly surprised that they had been able to get reservations. She was even more shocked to discover that it had been Brock's idea to take her there. Since when did he know what restaurants she liked?

They were all seated at a large table in an intimate corner of the restaurant. They ordered the most expensive meal on the menu, drank fine wine (well, the one's who were old enough did), listened to the soft piano music in the background, laughed, and truly had a marvelous time together. Reba loved times like those, where they were all actually together. Usually during dinner time, someone was always off doing something, and she couldn't help but feel like a piece of herself was missing. Now everyone was present and not bickering constantly, and she couldn't be happier about it. There was still this tiny nagging part of her heart that was still depressed over the fact that Barbra Jean was missing, but she decided to set that part aside for the moment. She had told herself she was gonna enjoy this while it lasted and she was sticking to her word.

All of a sudden the light music that had been playing switched to more contemporary music playing from a stereo as the piano guy took a break. Van and Cheyenne immediately heard a song they liked and decided to dance. Reba watched the young couple saunter over to the dance floor hand in hand, smiling widely and pulling each other in close to sway to the romantic song. It warmed her heart to see them so happy. She had told them before they got married that they had a hard road ahead of him, being so young and all, but she could see that their love was strong and they could obviously make it through anything. She was very happy about that fact.

"Would you care to dance," she suddenly heard Brock ask in the background. At first the idea of him asking her seemed so improbable that she thought she had heard wrong, so she ignored him and continued to watch her daughter and son-in-law.

"Reba," Brock called out a little more sharply. Reba jumped and turned in her seat to look at him.

"What?!"

"I asked you if you wanted to dance," he repeated, giving her a bit of an odd look.

"You're asking me," she replied skeptically, staring at him like he just grew a tail. She was still having an incredibly hard time wrapping her mind around the concept.

"Of course I am! Who else would I be asking," he retorted, bewilderment written all over his face at her reaction. Reba could tell she was confusing him, so she quickly wiped away the surprise from her face before she could raise his suspicions and put on a smile.

"I'm sorry, um, sure! I would love to dance," she finally told him. Brock smiled wanly, still understandably confused, but offered his hand to her anyway. Reba took it and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. As the walked, the song that was playing suddenly ended, and another familiar tune began to fill the restaurant. It was "Look at Us" by Vince Gill, one of Reba's favorite songs and the one she and Brock just happened to dance to on their tenth wedding anniversary. How weird that it would come on at that very moment.

Brock gently led Reba over to the front of him and pulled her in close into a dancing position. She could feel the warmth of Brock's hand on the small of her back, and it sent shivers up and down her spine. At the moment she couldn't tell whether those shivers were of delight or of anxiety, but it was too dangerous to question them now. Instead she just focused on the tempo of the song and swayed along to it in sync with her soon-to-be husband. As she did, she unconsciously moved in a little closer and rested her head on his shoulder, like she had done so many other times when they had danced while they had been dating and married. Even after all these years it felt strange to dance with him any other way.

"Do you remember the first time we danced to this song," he asked her suddenly. Without looking up, Reba smiled.

"Our tenth wedding anniversary," she replied, thinking back to that day. Again she found it odd how he would bring that up when she was just thinking about it not but one minute ago.

"Its all still true, you know," he told her.

"What is?"

"Everything the song says. You're still pretty as a picture and I'm still crazy over you." She felt him kiss the top of her head and clutch her hand a little tighter. Then out of nowhere, he began to sing along with the song.

"And if you wanna see how true love should be, then just look at us." Reba winced at his incredibly off key notes at first, but she still felt a pleasant smile spread across her face. Everything about this moment was so wrong; the lyrics to the song so incredibly ironic, but despite all this she still felt herself getting lost in the moment. Her stomach was doing flip-flops, her heart was soaring, and every part of her never wanted this to end. It nearly brought tears to her eyes to know that it eventually had to.

And she was right. Before she knew it an hour passed and the younger side of the family began to complain of boredom and fatigue. So reluctantly Brock and Reba pulled out of their dancing embrace and the lot headed for the door. About twenty minutes later, after arriving home, the Hart's bid goodnight to the Montgomery's and each headed off to their respective rooms.

Now Reba, having finished readying for bed, methodically began pulling back the covers and fluffing the pillows as she waited for Brock to finish his nightly bed-preparation routine. When he finally emerged from the bathroom, she waited for him to climb in on his side of the bed so she could hop in as well, but to her surprise he just stood by the bathroom's doorway, staring at her.

"Aren't you gonna come to bed," she asked, giving him a quizzical look.

"Reba, are you mad at me," he asked instead. The question seemed to come from so far out of left field, she was taken aback.

"No," she replied with confusion. "Why would you think that?"

"Well," he paused for a second, as if debating whether he should continue, "you've been calling me 'Brock'."

"That is your name, isn't it?!" Fear gripped her heart. _Oh no, has he been thinking that his name is something else this whole time?!_

"Yeah, but usually you call me something like 'honey' or 'sweetheart' or 'darlin'," he explained with a slight imitation of her accent. "You used to only call me 'Brock' when you're mad at me."

_Oops_, she thought. She hadn't even noticed that she had been doing that. And even if she had, she never would have thought he would have noticed something so trivial.

"Plus you've seemed a little distant lately," he continued, prompting a poorly disguised look of surprise on her part.

"Distant?!" She never would have expected that one. She thought they had been getting along so well that whole time. Sure there were times when she would run off without explaining, but she didn't think that had been enough to raise his suspicions. Apparently she hadn't been doing as good of a job as she thought at this whole wife thing. Panic began to rise within her as she tried to rack her brain for any other instances that might have given her away. Meanwhile, Brock left his post by the bathroom doorframe and began to slowly make his way over to her side of the bed.

"Look Reba, I know things have been a little strange since the accident, probably because I can't remember half of our life together," he admitted to her. "But that doesn't scare me half as much as the possibility that I'm losing you."

Barbra Jean had been right; Brock had become very earnest over the years, and Reba had no idea how to respond to it. She wanted to tell him he wasn't losing her, to comfort him somehow, but how could she when the reality of the situation was that he had lost her long time ago? She opened her mouth in hopes that something would come out but nothing ever did. Luckily Brock continued.

"I just….I just want to feel close to you again, Reba. I _need_ to feel close to you again." As he spoke he finished rounding the bed and bridged the gap between them. Only then did she realize what he was getting at. She knew she needed to make an excuse quick before things went too far, but she kept coming up blank. The vulnerability and longing in his eyes was blocking her train of thought. She tried to convince herself that it was all a ploy, but his voice had been so darn sincere that it was near impossible. Still, she had to do something before it got out of hand.

All intentions of putting a stop to things vanished, however, when Brock grabbed her by the hand in a flash and pulled her into a passionate kiss. The move was so fast that she was completely stunned at first; and the intensity and longing held in that kissed shocked her ever more. But what came as even greater of a shock than all that was that she found herself kissing back just as intently. Her heart began to race faster still when she felt him lead her back and lay her gently down onto the bed, never once breaking off their fiery lip lock. As his hands began to rove freely all over her body, he began to trail kisses down to her neck and chest, eliciting a slight moan on her part. Eventually his hands found their way under the nightgown she was wearing and he began to massage the soft skin that lay underneath. His touch set fire to whatever part of her he came in contact, almost as much at the kisses he continued to plant all over her. The only time he ceased them was to quickly tear off her nightgown and toss it onto the floor.

Her mind could come up with a million reasons why what they were about to do was so wrong, but her heart and body would hear none of them. She wanted this more than anything at the moment, and for the first time in her life she wasn't going to think about the consequences.

As he sensually began to remove what little she remained clad in, he paused for a second to look deep into her eyes.

"I love you Reba," he told her, his voice still throaty with lust. Without hesitation, Reba responded.

"I love you too."

Then they resumed their amorous escapade, Brock quickly removing all that he was clad in and Reba waiting impatiently while he finished. Once he did he captured her lips again with such a heated desire that she thought her heart might burst. They spent the rest of the night that way, lost in their love and passion for each other.


	13. Wedding Day

Reba awoke the next morning in a pile of twisted covers, her hair disheveled and her mind in a considerable daze. She sat up slowly and looked around to find herself alone in her room, no sign of Brock anywhere. She was beginning to think that all that had taken place last night had just been a dream, but as she looked under the covers and found herself without clothes, she shook her head.

"Definitely not a dream," she said to herself. She flopped back down to a lying position and stared up at the ceiling, trying to sort through all that her heart was feeling. There was a twinge of guilt present, which was to be expected, but for the most part it wasn't the kinda guilt she had thought she would feel. Sure, she felt bad for going against her word and giving into her ex-husband, but she felt even guiltier over the _lack_ of guilt her heart contained. She should feel incredibly horrible right now, but all she could think about was how wonderful last night had been, and how it brought back old emotions and passions she thought she had lost forever. She couldn't help but let her soul rejoice over that.

And now the day had arrived: her and Brock's second marriage. The day she should also be dreaded, but again she instead found herself excited. There was gonna be a lot to sort through once it was all over, she knew, and even more to explain when Brock returned to his normal state, but for once she wasn't going to think about what the future held. Reba had realized something last night…she had spent so much of her life worrying about consequences and how her decisions would affect those around her that she probably denied herself a lot of personal happiness.

Well that day would be different, she promised herself. For the first time in her life she was going to be completely selfish, no matter how much it went against her nature. She was going to enjoy this day and however long the faux marriage may last, at least until Brock got his memory back. Only then would she worry about the consequences. But for now, that day was all about the happiness.

Suddenly there came a knock at Reba's door. She felt her heart jump in her throat as she pulled the covers tightly about her and waited for the awkward moment when she would be caught in such a compromising position. _Good Lord, what are they gonna think we they see me like this?!_

But to her immense relief whoever knocked on the door soon after attempted to open it, but instead found it locked. Reba let out the breath she hadn't even known she had been holding and put a hand to her racing heart.

_Thank you Brock, _she thought to herself as she cleared her nervously dry throat.

"Who is it," she called out, her voice still somewhat shaky over the close call.

"Mrs. H., you awake," she heard her son-in-law call back. Reba rolled her eyes.

"No, I'm still asleep," she shot back.

"Well wake up," he replied, the sarcasm of her reply going over his head. "We've got to be at the church in two hours!"

At that, Reba shot a glance over at the clock and immediately felt panic rise within her. She had overslept by more than two hours and no one had even bothered to wake her. Now she only had about an hour and half to get dressed, do her hair and makeup, and make sure the family got something to eat before the ceremony. How on earth was she supposed to squeeze all that in?!

Having no time to waste, Reba threw back the covers and ran to the bathroom to hop into a shower. She was just about to step in when she heard a confused Van still hollering from the hall.

"Mrs. H., are you sure you're awake?!"

"I'm awake, Van," she called back as she poked her head out from the bathroom. "Just do me a favor and make sure that everyone's up and dressed by the time I get down, will ya?"

"I'm on it," he responded before bounding off. Reba felt a little bit of the stress lift, having confidence that at least that task would be done. But there was still a matter of getting ready, in which she was drastically behind. She hopped into her waiting shower and proceeded to rush through the rest of her readying regimens.

Exactly an hour and a half later, Reba's hair was curled and her make up was applied, and all that was left do was slip into the wedding dress, but she had decided that would be best saved for when they arrived at the church. Instead she gathered it up carefully along with the rest of her belongings and rushed downstairs to make sure everyone else was ready. To her amazement, she found them all in the kitchen completely dressed and sitting at the table chatting quietly.

"I am so sorry, you guys. I'm making breakfast right now," she announced to them as she rushed around the island and to the stove.

"No need, Mrs. H.! Mr. H. already took care of it," Van announced. Reba closed the stove and turned to him with a look of astonishment.

"He made y'all breakfast?!"

"Well more like he picked breakfast up for us, but same diff," Cheyenne replied with a smile, cuddling Elizabeth in her lap.

"And he made sure we got ready on time," Jake piped in.

"Wow," Reba said more to herself than anyone else. "Well where is he now?"

"He said it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding, so he's just gonna meet us at the church," Cheyenne explained. "Which we should be heading to by now, by the way." Reba glanced at her watch and winced.

"Yes we should. Uh Van, why don't you go with Cheyenne and Elizabeth and I'll take Jake and Kyra with me?"

"You got it Mrs. H.," Van agreed, taking Elizabeth from Cheyenne's arms and standing up from his seat. Cheyenne quickly followed suit and soon they exited the kitchen. "We'll see y'all there," Cheyenne called back before they stepped out the door. Reba, meanwhile, quickly rushed Kyra and Jake out of the kitchen and into the living room so they could prepare to leave. She did a check of her children's outfits and nodded approvingly.

"Don't you both look so adorable," she told them before gathering up her dress. "Okay, y'all ready to go?"

"Are you really gonna go through with this, Mom," Kyra suddenly blurted out. A bit taken aback at the suddenness of the question, Reba blinked rapidly at her for a second before answering.

"I thought that was obvious, but yes. Why?" She was almost afraid of the answer, but her curiosity wouldn't let her let it go.

"It's just…" Kyra was obviously hesitant to continue, but did so anyway, "I don't know, it just seems weird. Why are you taking him back after all he did to you?"

Again, quite taken aback, Reba paused before answering. "Because Kyra, everyone deserves to be forgiven. God forgives us everyday, I think it's the least we can do for other people. Besides…it's not like I'm taking him back permanently." At that, Kyra scoffed.

"Yeah, sure you aren't."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Please Mom; I saw the way you two were dancing together last night. We all did! It's pretty obvious that you've taken him back already."

"Kyra that was nothing! It was just….well, I…." she tried her hardest to protest, but couldn't think of anything to say. She sighed and turned her face away from her daughter and son to hide her guilt.

"You're in love with him again, aren't you," Kyra pressed. Reba took in a deep breath before turning to face them again.

"I don't think I ever really stopped loving him." An understandably awkward silence passed where none knew what to say. Reba didn't really notice though, she was too busy marveling at what she had just said. That was the first time she had admitted to still having feelings for him out loud. She wondered now if it had been the right decision.

"So you guys okay with that," Reba finally gathered the courage to ask, breaking the silence. Kyra pondered for a second.

"Well does he make you happy?" Reba smiled slightly.

"Yeah, he does," she admitted.

"Well…I guess as long as you're happy, I'm okay," Kyra concluded. Reba smiled wider and went to gather her child in her arms, but Kyra stepped back.

"He's not gonna be the same guy once his memory comes back…you know that, right?" Reba's smile faded as she took in her daughter's words.

"Well, we don't know that for sure. He's been a lot more willing to talk about his feelings the last few years. Maybe things will be different this time around…better even." Reba gave her an assured smile, but Kyra remained unconvinced.

"I just don't wanna see you get hurt again, Mom. I don't think I can handle seeing you go through that again." Reba felt a few tears spring to her eyes as she pulled Kyra into that hug she had attempted earlier.

"You won't have to sweetheart, I promise. Things will be different, you'll see."

"Well…alright, then I'm happy for you," Kyra said into her mother's neck, causing Reba to squeeze her even tighter. She felt a bit of relief flood through her. One thing that had really worried her was what her children would think of everything; it was good to know she had the definite approval of three children (Cheyenne and Van had already proven to be happy for her). Now all that was left was Jake, but Reba had a feeling that convincing him wouldn't prove to be too difficult. She pulled away from her daughter and turned her attention towards him.

"So Jake, how's all this settin' with you?"

Jake, who had gotten bored and taken out his gameboy, looked up and stared at her blankly.

"Huh?! Oh, yeah sure! Whatever, as long as I don't have to move I'm fine." Reba laughed and planted a kiss on the top of his head, prompting a grimace from him. She loved her son's ability to make what she considered serious situations to be not as big of a deal as she thought. It helped to ease her nerves a bit.

"Alright guys, we've got a wedding to attend," she announced as she gathered up her things again.

"At least you know they can't start without us," Kyra quipped. Reba laughed with delight and proceeded to usher them out the door and to the care, suddenly feeling ten times better than she had before she and her children had talked.

Still, Kyra had posed a very serious question in Reba's mind: would Brock be the same person when his memory returned? Who exactly had she fallen back in love with? These thoughts and more were enough to almost make her want to turn the car around, but instead she quickly cleared her mind of them and concentrated on the music playing through the radio. She had said she wasn't going to worry about consequences and she wasn't. This was her day to just be happy and she was gonna take advantage of it.

After a half an hour's drive they finally reached the church. A few guests had already arrived but for the most part it was still empty, giving Reba the chance to slip in quietly without being seeing. She found herself a quaint little dressing that had been set up for her and proceeded to change into her wedding gown. It took some doing but she finally got a handle of the intricate lacing and managed to slip it on. Once she did, she turned towards the full length mirror and gasped.

If she hadn't known better she would have thought she was looking at a portrait of herself from her first wedding day. It was extremely eerie. Even though it wasn't a perfect match the dress still gave her a serious blast from the past. She wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

Trying her best to ignore the oddness of her image, Reba set to work on doing a small touchup to her makeup and arranged her hair to the way it would best compliment the veil. Once she slipped said veil on, she stepped back and smiled. She had to admit, she didn't look half bad!

She glanced over at the timepiece on the wall and realized to her annoyance that she had given herself too much time to get ready; it was still a good forty five minutes until the actual ceremony began. What could she do now?

Reba began trying to find little things to do to pass the time. She took out a file and began perfecting her nails, but after a few minutes that got dull. Next she attempted to straighten up the room a bit but that soon got boring too. She sighed. Her momma had always told her she had the attention span of a two-year-old and she right now she sure was proving her correct. She racked her brain for something else to do.

_Maybe Cheyenne's not busy, _she thought as she gathered up her skirt and made her way to the door leading to a hidden hallway in the back of the church. She knew she wasn't supposed to be seen before a wedding, but there was probably no harm in it as long as Brock didn't see her; she would just have to be careful where she went. So making her way through the intricate hallways, she carefully avoided the main sanctum of the church and eventually found her daughter and son-in-law talking quietly at one end of a corridor. She smiled and approached them, but as she did she began to pick up on their hushed, frantic voices. Something was obviously very wrong.

"We have to tell her, Van! It's the right thing to do," she heard her daughter argue.

"But Cheyenne, you saw how happy she is! If we tell her, that happiness will go away and she'll eventually start yelling! And I don't wanna be in her path when that happens!"

"Still, we can't just let her go through with it without knowing. It would be wrong!"

"Oh and that's all you care about, isn't it?! What's right and what's wrong! What happened, Cheyenne?! I thought you said the ditzy, shallow you was back! I was counting on that!"

"Oh shut up Van and just go find Mom and tell her!"

"What?! Me?! No way! You go tell her, since you're so big on the truth and all! There's no way I'm putting my head in danger!" Cheyenne gave him a look of scorn.

"What are you even talking about?!"

"Well when we tell your Mom, she's gonna be mad; and when she's mad she likes to take it out on my head like this!" He proceeded to smack himself on the head to give his wife an example, only to pout and rub it a second later after realizing he hit himself too hard. Cheyenne scoffed.

"You're such a baby! Just go tell her!"

"No! You go," Van retorted.

"You go," Cheyenne shot back.

"You go!"

"You go!"

"You go times infinity," Van cried out quickly, giving her a look of triumph. Cheyenne groaned.

"This is getting us nowhere! Just go tell her!"

"No, I am not going to tell her," Van still refused, crossing his arms with stubborn cried. Reba realized eavesdropping was getting her nowhere either, so she finally decided to interrupt.

"You're not going to tell me what," she asked from behind. Van yelped and jumped back.

"Hey Mrs. H.," he greeted her awkwardly. "My, don't you look beautiful! Why don't I escort you back to your room and we can just all hang out in there until the ceremony." He attempted to grab her arm, but Reba pulled away.

"Van, what were you going to tell me," she repeated, this time more forcefully. Van smiled nervously and shrugged.

"T-Tell you?! Tell you?! Nothing! We don't have anything to tell you, right Cheyenne?!" He looked to his wife for assistance but instead she blurted out the truth.

"Mom, Dad remembers everything!" Reba's eyebrows shot up with astonishment as Van darted behind Cheyenne for protection.

"H-He what?"

"Dad remembers everything. We overheard him talking with one of his golf buddies and they asked him whatever happened to Barbra Jean and instead of being confused, he told him that they had gotten divorced because they weren't working out. We went to ask him about it and he told us he got his memory back but not to tell you." Cheyenne inhaled deeply once she finished spilling out the truth, and a tense silence followed. Reba was having a difficult time wrapping her mind around her daughter's words.

"So he remembers everything," she repeated, hoping that if she said it out loud she would be better able to believe it. Cheyenne and Van nodded slowly, fearful of the rage that must have been building up in her eyes.

"And he didn't mention it to me because…." she prompted.

"We don't know, he didn't tell us why not," Cheyenne answered quietly. Another moment of silence followed where Cheyenne and Van tried to anticipate Reba's next move. Reba meanwhile, nodded slowly as she began to finally come to terms with everything they had just told her.

"I'm gonna kill him," she finally announced. Before her children could protest, she bunched up her dress in her clenched fists and stormed off in search of Brock. The rage she felt inside her must have propelled her, for she found him in two seconds flat. He was in the main sanctum chatting with another buddy of his when Reba approached him, smiling and laughing like nothing was wrong. She would make sure that would change.

"Reba," he cried out when he caught sight of her, "you know it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding." Without a word, she grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the main sanctum into the tiny dressing room she had been so happy in just minutes before.

"Ow! Reba, you're hurting my hand," he whined when they arrived. Not caring in the least, she whirled him roughly around to face her and let go of his hand with disgust.

"Let me ask you something, Brock. When exactly were you planning on telling me that you got your memory back," she asked him with quiet rage. The look of confusion that had been present on Brock's face turned to one of fear almost immediately.

"Oh, you know about that, huh?" His flimsy response sparked her temper even further, and to demonstrate so she gave him a hard smack to the arm.

"Is that all you have to say?!"

"Reba just calm down…"

"Don't you tell me to calm down," she interrupted. "You've been lying to me! This whole time I've been treating you so nice and caring for you and you were lying!"

"Reba, it isn't like you think," he tried to protest, but she again interrupted as a horrible thought occurred to her.

"Brock, last night….did you…" she couldn't finish her question. Fortunately Brock caught on and his eyes grew wide with shock.

"No Reba! You know I wouldn't take advantage of you like that! No, I've been trying to tell you that it happened just this morning. I woke up and remembered everything."

"Oh," was all she managed to say. She could tell by the look in his eyes that she had hurt him by accusing him of such a dastardly deed, but at the moment she didn't care. The fact that he still hadn't had his memory back when they did what they did didn't make her feel any less dirty.

"Look Reba," Brock said, breaking the silence, "I know lying was wrong but I promise you I have a good excuse!"

"There never is a good excuse for lying, Brock! Lying is just lying," she retorted.

"I know, but look. Just give me a chance to explain…please," he pleaded with her. When she stayed quiet he took it as permission to continue. "I realize that not telling you the truth right away was wrong, and I'm really sorry about that. But I was afraid of what would happen if I _did_ tell you the truth."

"Afraid," Reba repeated incredulously. "Afraid of what?"

"Afraid of losing you again." Reba's eyes grew wide with surprise.

"What?"

"I'm still in love with you, Reba," he admitted. "I want to be your husband again. And I was afraid that if you knew I got my memory back you wouldn't believe that I still love you and you would leave me. That's why I didn't tell you right away."

Reba felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. She couldn't believe she was hearing the words she had been longing to hear for quite some time. What she couldn't believe even more, however, was the fact that she didn't believe him. She wanted to, but it all still seemed so fake…and she was still so angry at being lied to.

"I swear I was planning to tell you eventually," Brock continued. "I was just gonna wait until we had been married for a while, that's all. I figured maybe then you would be in love with me again too." He stepped closer to her and took her by the hand. "So what do you say, Reba?"

"No," she said with a shake of her head, pulling her hand away. "No, this isn't real. None of it is. You don't want to be with _me_!"

"What?! Of course I do! I just told you I did!"

"Okay, well why then?! Why do you want to be with me again," Reba challenged, pretty sure she knew what the answer would be.

"Because I love you," Brock retorted. "Because whenever I look into your eyes I see my past, my future, my everything! Because you _are _my everything, Reba. You're my best friend, and you're all I'll ever need for the rest of my life." He concluded and gave her a loving, hopeful smile. But instead of being touched, Reba rolled her eyes.

"Oh gag," she replied, not able to help but give a little smile. She knew his answer would be something ridiculous like that and she had been right. Meanwhile, Brock stared at her with confusion.

"What?! I was speaking from the heart there!"

"Please Brock, you were speaking from about five different country songs!" Brock stared down at his shoes in shame. He should have known better than to quote from her favorite kind of music.

"That doesn't mean it isn't true," he replied quietly. Reba sighed.

"Look Brock, I know you love me, okay," she admitted. "I can feel it. But you know as well as I do that it takes way more than that to make a marriage!"

"And I have what it takes now, Reba, I promise you! I've changed!"

"Oh really? Well then what do you call lying to me just now, huh?!"

"I already explained that to you," he argued quietly, but the rage didn't disappear from Reba's eyes.

"That doesn't matter. Brock, without trust you don't have a marriage." She paused as she felt a lump form in her throat. "How am I supposed to ever trust that you're not lying to me? How am I ever supposed to trust that you won't leave me again?" Brock looked up at her, and Reba could see tears shining in his eyes. It was almost enough to make her lose it, but she quickly hardened her heart.

"I promise you I will never do anything to hurt you ever again. Please Reba," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "Please just give me a second chance."

She wanted to believe him more than anything; to take comfort in the sincerity held in his eyes, but images of him and Barbra Jean together over the past seven years kept popping up in her head, and she knew there was no way she could.

"I gave you plenty of chances," she told him. Hot tears of anger and heartache sprung to her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She had told him a long time ago that she was through crying for him, and she'd be darned if she would let him see her cry now. "We're through."

And with those last words, and before he had a chance to see the tears fall, Reba turned and fled from the room.


	14. Help From An UnLikely Source

Reba sat at the end of two hallways in a secluded little corner of the church, far away from the din of the wedding guests and she hoped even farther away from her ex-husband. Beautiful stained glass windows depicting bible stories of love and hope surrounded her, casting a heavenly glow and throwing colorful patterns of light all around. It was so peaceful and quiet where she was, but none of that, however, kept her from hurting any less.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_, she chastised herself over and over again as she wiped away her silent tears before they could smudge her makeup. She hated herself for grieving like she was, after all the resolutions she made. She had promised herself she wasn't going to get in too deep and she did. But why? Why had she been so easily sucked in? She thought back on her actions over the past week and cringed.

Wishy-washy. That's what she had been. Reba usually had such strong opinions about everything, taking one side of an issue and sticking to it with all she had. This time she had let her heart go all over the place and as a result, her resolve faltered. Now she and her heart were paying the price.

_Ugh, _she groaned inwardly as she put her pounding head in her hands. She had done so well at not loving him for the past six years and the minute Barbra Jean disappears from the picture she lets him back in! She couldn't have been angrier or more disappointed with herself.

Reba leaned her head up against the wall and stared up at the image of an angel staring back down at her. It calmed her a bit to know there was still someone looking after her, but she knew there was still a lot in her life to work out. What was going to happen now? How was she going to be able to see him without picturing all the good times they had all over the past week; especially their little escapade the night before? How was she going to be able to see him at all? These questions and more plagued her until she thought she might break down again. She had to get out of that church, away from the problems and away from the heartache…at least for the time being.

She gathered her dress and stood up to go, formulating in her head a plan of escape without being noticed, but as she was preparing to leave she heard the rapid clicking of heels coming towards her down the hall. Looking for a quick get away, she spotted a door at the end of the hall she was staring down and sprinted toward it, only to find it locked when she approached it. She sighed with annoyance, realizing she was trapped and had no choice to face whoever was coming towards her. She waited, expecting to see Cheyenne round the corner, but instead was completely shocked to find the last person she'd ever think to see there of all places.

"Barbra Jean," she cried out incredulously. "What are you doing here?!"

"Cheyenne called me and told me what was going on," she explained. "I just _had_ to come see if you were alright!"

_Good ole' Cheyenne, _Reba thought with anger as she squeezed her balled-up dress tighter in her fists. Always the one to call on the person Reba wanted the least help from.

"Well how did you find me?!"

"I followed the scent of your perfume," Barbra Jean stated simply. Reba rolled her eyes. Why she had expected anything but a completely insane answer was beyond her.

"Barbra Jean, its not that I don't appreciate your concern," Reba told the blonde, her tone a bit harsh with irritation, "but if you don't mind I'd really rather be alone right now."

"But we are alone, Reba," Barbra Jean replied. Reba groaned.

"I mean _alone_ alone…by myself…" Reba waited but the naivety was still present in the blonde's eyes, "without you!"

"But I can't just leave you alone Reba, not when you're feeling like this. Who knows what you'll do!" Reba's shoulders slumped at the absurdity of Barbra Jean's mentality, accompanied by another eye roll.

"Thanks," she replied dryly, "but I was planning on _doing_ anything. I was just gonna leave." She walked past the tall blonde to go.

"And go where," Barbra Jean challenged. "You belong here! With your family! And with Brock!"

"What," Reba cried out with disbelief, whirling around to face her. "I don't belong with Brock! You do! He's yours now, remember?!"

"No he isn't Reba! Not anymore! We got divorced….remember," she retorted mockingly. Reba narrowed her eyes and glared at the woman.

"But why," she asked, her tone all of a sudden going somber. "What happened with you two? I thought you guys loved each other."

"We did," Barbra Jean admitted. "We still do, I guess. But it's just….it's just different now." She broke eye contact with Reba and stared down at the floor.

"How so," Reba prodded. "What could have changed so much that you would be willing to end it all?"

"He found out about my past," Barbra Jean blurted out. Reba furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"What past?!"

"Oh come on, Reba! You know what past! I told you about it years ago, when you thought Brock had cheated on you before your separation." Reba tried to think back but so much had taken place over the years she just couldn't really recall. Barbra Jean could see this and sighed.

"How I had relationships with other married men before I met him," she explained with annoyance. Reba's eyes grew wide with realization.

"Oh," she exclaimed. "Barbra Jean, I never told him anything. I swear!"

"I know you didn't," she replied dismissively. "He found that picture again when we were going through the attic and finally asked me about it. I guess he just didn't think about it last time because he was too busy being upset over you. And you what a blurter I am, so the whole thing just kinda spilled out."

"But that was a long time ago, Barbra Jean! That can't be the only reason you two aren't together!"

"Yeah well, its kinda not," she admitted.

"What do ya mean?"

"We had been having problems for a long while Reba. We didn't talk, we didn't spend any time together, and we didn't have intimacies for over two months…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Reba cried out as she held up her hands. "Let's leave that part out, shall we?"

"Okay, sorry," Barbra Jean agreed and continued. "Well when he found that picture, it was just the thing that brought up everything we had been putting off talking about, not just for that time we were unhappy but for our whole marriage. And it brought up a very serious question that neither of us could answer." Barbra Jean paused for a second as her voice cracked a bit with emotion.

"And what question would that be," Reba asked gently. She knew it was hurting her to reminisce about what had ended her marriage but she just had to know. Barbra Jean took in a deep breath and continued.

"Would we have gotten married if I hadn't gotten pregnant with Henry?" A stunned silence followed as Reba took in that question. She had asked herself that question a couple of times before early on but she never thought it would be a serious issue between the couple. She just always figured the answer was yes.

"And neither of you could answer that question?!"

"No," Barbra Jean admitted.

"But you two loved each other! Of course you would have gotten married!"

"No we didn't Reba! We didn't love each other, at least not the way married people ought to love each other. We kinda had to grow into that love after we found out I was pregnant. But what if that hadn't happened?! How long would our relationship really have lasted?!"

"It would have lasted as long as it has, I'm sure of it," Reba retorted quickly. Barbra Jean stared at her sadly and shook her head.

"No it wouldn't have Reba. I was young and reckless. I probably would have just dumped Brock after awhile and moved on to somebody else's husband. Getting pregnant was the thing that settled me down; it had nothing to do with Brock."

Reba couldn't believe she was hearing these words. What's worse was that, despite her own anger with him, the way Barbra Jean talked about Brock so dismissively was actually making her angry. "So he was just another affair to you," she asked, her tone a bit testy.

"No, I'll admit he was something special," Barbra Jean replied, "But it wasn't enough to build a lasting relationship, as you can see now. And I don't think Brock would have stuck around with me too long either."

"Oh yes he would have," Reba argued.

"No he wouldn't! I was just his little escape from all the problems he was having with you; his excuse to not face his issues. But he never stopped loving you Reba. I know he would have gone back to you if I hadn't gotten pregnant."

"You're wrong, Barbra Jean," Reba still refused with a shake of her head. "We were through."

"No, you weren't," she retorted with a scoff. "You know as well as I do that if Brock had been willing to talk back then you two would have worked things out. Why do you think you guys have been getting along so well now? Because he's finally willing to work on the issues you guys were having."

"Yeah well maybe I'm not," Reba exclaimed. "Maybe I was finally happy with the way my life turned out before this little fiasco and was finally ready to move on!"

"Maybe…" Barbra Jean agreed. "_Or_ maybe you could go back to the life you were just as happy with!" Reba shook her head vehemently.

"No…no, that can never happen. Brock and I are finished and that's that." Reba crossed her arms and turned away from Barbra Jean.

"Why are you being so stubborn," the blonde asked with frustration. When no answer followed, she came to the only logical conclusion on her own. "Is it because you're afraid of getting hurt again?"

Reba winced as Barbra Jean hit the nail right on the head, though she still refused to admit it to her. Instead she kept quiet and the blonde continued.

"Reba," she began gently, "you know you love Brock, and he loves you too. You shouldn't deny yourself that love just because you don't wanna take the risk. You can miss out on something really great if you do that."

The redhead was a bit taken aback at the wise words coming from the goofball. It sounded more like something she herself would advise to someone else. Still, she refused to accept those words. She had finally gotten her heart to mend over her failed marriage; why on earth would she want to open it back up to that heartache again? So instead of taking Barbra Jean's advice she chose to try to escape her presence.

"I need to get outta here," she told her as she turned around and pushed past her. She was about half a second away from rounding the corner and disappearing when Barbra Jean stopped her once more.

"Reba, you once told me that every marriage that can be saved should be saved….do you still believe that?" Reba froze in her path and turned to the blonde again.

"Of course I do," she answered, assuming that Barbra Jean was referring to her own marriage with Brock.

"Well," she replied, "maybe you were just talking about the wrong marriage."

Reba blinked rapidly at her companion's words, utterly shocked. She had never looked at the situation that way before. She had always told Barbra Jean and Brock, and even her own children, that if people were willing to work at their relationship they should. After all, all love needed care and nurturing. So why had she never taken her own advice? Why had she never lived her life as an example for her family…well, when it came to her own relationships at least? There was no good excuse really. Maybe it was time finally time to give Brock the second chance she said everyone deserved. But there was just one thing that stood in her way. She gazed up at the tall blonde with sad eyes.

"But what's gonna happen to you?" Barbra Jean gave a small smile.

"I'll be okay, Reba. Really I will. You already taught me how to survive on my own. I'll move on and eventually find someone new…someone who I can get to know a little better before I marry him."

"I'm sure you will Barbra Jean," Reba assured her with the slightest bit of guilt. She still couldn't help but feel like she was taking something away from her. Suddenly a thought occurred to her.

"Does this mean we'll never see each other again," she asked, fearful of the answer. But Barbra Jean just smiled.

"You know I would never let that happen. And besides, if we could never see each other again…" she reached behind her and pulled out a giant ring of keys attached to her belt loop by a string, most labeled with Reba's name, "what would I do with all these?!" Reba burst out laughing and wiped away a few stray tears.

"You could probably get a nice profit if you have Jake sell them." Both women giggled delightfully, easing the intense emotions that had risen before. Then Reba did something that six years ago she never thought she would ever do. She closed the gap between her and Barbra Jean and pulled her into a real hug. They stood like that for a few seconds before Reba pulled away, revealing a incredibly shocked Barbra Jean staring down at her, her mouth agape.

"That's the first time _you_ ever hugged _me_," she said rather incredulously. Reba shrugged.

"It's what best friends do, isn't it," she asked with a smile. Barbra Jean's mouth fell open even wider as her hand flew to her heart.

"Best…friend," she said the words as if she didn't believe them. Reba nodded slowly and waited for her reaction, expecting tears of joy or something to that effect. Instead Barbra Jean let out an incredibly loud scream, startling Reba immensely, and then pulled the redhead into a tight bear hug.

"Barbra Jean…" Reba said breathlessly, "you're gonna wrinkle my dress…or break my spine."

"Oh sorry," she replied, letting go immediately. "I was just…I never thought I'd ever hear those words. It's like a dream!" Reba laughed at the starry-eyed goofball.

"Well I meant every word of it," Reba confessed. "Now if you'll excuse me, I better go find Brock and straighten out this whole mess."

"Oh right," Barbra Jean remembered. "I'll meet up with you later then…best friend!"

"You're never gonna use my real name again, are you," Reba realized.

"Not if I can help it…best friend!" Reba laughed.

"I have a feeling that's gonna get old real fast," she replied. "But I can live with it." She gave Barbra Jean one last smile before gathering her dress and heading off in search of her ex-husband.

She found him quickly, in the exact same little room where they had their fight just a half an hour before, leaning his elbows heavily upon his knees and holding his head in his hands. He looked up when he heard the clicking of her heels as she entered the room.

"Reba," he said softly as he stood up. "I-I thought you left." She shook her head solemnly.

"No, I was about to but, uh, something stopped me."

"Really, what?" Reba wasn't sure whether she should tell him it was Barbra Jean or not. She was probably the last person he would expect to convince Reba to stay with him. Frankly, she was still having a hard time believing it herself.

"It doesn't matter," she told him. "What matters is we need to talk."

"Oh so now you wanna talk," he shot back, obviously still hurt. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather just have me pour my heart out to you and then run away?!" Reba bowed her head with sadness.

"Alright, I guess I deserve that," she admitted. "I'm sorry Brock. I didn't mean to run away like that, but I still have every right to be just as angry with you too, ya know!"

"Yeah, you're right," Brock admitted, his anger quelling a bit. "I shouldn't have led you on like that, and I really am very sorry."

"I know you are," she replied, "and I forgive you for that." Brock grinned happily, relief shiny in his eyes.

"So…what do we do now," he asked hopefully.

"I don't know Brock," she cried out with frustration. "I mean, I want to be back with you, I really do, but I still stand by everything I said before I left! You hurt me when you left, how am I supposed to trust that you won't do it again?"

"Reba, I promise you, I will _never_ let that happen again. I would die before I let you get away again." He cautiously closed the space between them and gingerly took her hand, bracing for a violent reaction and immensely relieved when one didn't follow. He cupped her right hand with his and brought it close to his heart.

"I love you Reba," he told her with the up most sincerity. "I love you more than anything, and I promise you I will spend the rest of my life showing you that I have changed." Reba hesitated a bit, but she knew she couldn't deny what she felt in her heart any longer, nor did she even want to.

"I love you too Brock," she admitted. "I always have." Brock sighed with relief as he pulled her into his arms and held onto her tightly.

"Things are gonna be different this time, Reba," he told her. "Better, in fact. I promise you." He kissed the top of her head and pulled away a bit.

"So, you ready to get married….again?" He gave her a hopeful smile.

"Well…" Reba said thoughtfully. Getting married again was a pretty big and scary step considering that they just officially got back together, she wasn't sure if it was the wisest move to make so soon. But she figured that was probably where their relationship was going to end up again anyway, so she let go of her insecurities and smiled. "I guess since we already paid for the food." Brock laughed and leaned in to give her their first official kiss as a truly restored couple. Reba gladly responded to the motion, tilting her head and leaning in as well, but suddenly a thought occurred to her and she interrupted him before their lips could meet.

"But if you ever pull something like this again, I swear I will not hesitate to shoot you this time around." Brock laughed again.

"Got it," he told her. Reba smiled at him and picked up where they left off, grabbing him by the lapel of his jacket and pulling him into a kiss. She felt her heart soar once again as she tried to communicate all the lost love and passion she had stored away. Wildfires sparked on both their parts as the kiss grew more intense. They could have lasted that way for a good long while until Reba realized something.

"Brock," she said quickly in between kisses.

"Yeah," he replied in a rush, never wanting their lips to stop meeting.

"There's a church full of people probably wondering where we are…"

"Your point," he retorted.

"We have to stop." She put her hands on his chest on pushed him away gently, finally breaking of their fiery lip lock. "But I promise we can pick up where we left off later," she told him with a coy smile.

"Well...alright," he consented with disappointment. "But I'm holding you to that promise!"

With that, the couple reluctantly pulled out of each other's embrace and exited the dressing room hand in hand before heading of to their respective positions, Brock standing at the head of the church by their children and Reba at the back of the church waiting for her cue. The wedding was finally ready to begin.

After being given the signal, the band started up the music, and Elizabeth the flower girl proceeded to saunter down the aisle, tossing rose petals to her left and right as she went. Next it was Jake the ring bearer's turn, and he gallantly began to make his way down the aisle, occasionally giving a pretty young girl a confident wink. Reba laughed at her son's antics and shook her head. She guessed he was just at that age.

Suddenly she heard the music switch to the wedding march, and it was finally her turn to go. Wearing a dazzling smile she didn't even know she had on, she slowly and gracefully began to make her way towards the head of the church.

It was like everything she had dreamed about a week before, only better because everyone she loved was present. She made eye contact with Brock and smiled even wider, fearing she would burst into tears of joy even before the real ceremony began. She couldn't remember the last time she was this happy.

Yes she could, her first wedding. That was when she had been the happiest. And now there she was again, getting to relive that day over again. She hadn't realized how much she missed it until then; how much she had missed Brock and the life she had had before. Sure she had been happy these past six years, but it still didn't make her love her old life any less. She had just pushed that love aside for a while, locked it behind that door that she had admitted existed a few years back in that therapist's office when Brock and Barbra Jean had been going through their first separation. It had always been there, just like therapist had said it would be, whether Barbra Jean was in the picture or not. And now it was open, letting loose all those old feelings and lost love. Reba couldn't be more relieved about that; sure was sure holding it in couldn't have been good for her health or her heart.

She finally reached the head of the church, handing her bouquet of roses to her eldest daughter and taking Brock's outstretched hand. They stood before the pastor of the church, listening to the vows he recited from the Bible before repeating them to each other. They were the exact words Reba stood and recited twenty six years ago, she knew that, but somehow they seemed to be different. They seemed to hold more meaning to her that time around; seemed to come more from the heart. They had been through the ultimate trial, her and Brock, yet their loved still prevailed. This time around the vows they recited seemed more permanent, and she had a pretty strong feeling that this time, they would be.

* * *

Hold on, it still ain't over yet! There's one more chapter to go and I already have it all written out, I just need to type it and tweak it a bit, so it shouldn't be more than two or three days before its up. Hope you stick around and as always, reviews are greatly appreciated! 


	15. Epilogue

I don't think this chapter's gonna be as interesting as the rest of them, I'm afraid. I just hate it when things aren't played out realistically and I felt that there were a still a few loose ends that needed tying up to make it play true to life, thus resulting in a very wordy epilogue. Oh well, hope you still enjoy it anyway!

* * *

Reba took in a deep breath and inhaled the balmy late afternoon air as she sat back and watched her family frolic about before her. It was a Sunday and they had all decided to go on a family picnic right after church let out. The day was gorgeous, with the sun just peeking out from behind the clouds every now and then, making it the perfect temperature. The water in the lake they were picnicking by was cool and clean, perfect for wading in, and it was lined by beautiful trees and soft grass to sit upon. Up above birds were singing and butterflies danced all around. Reba couldn't have imagined a more ridiculously perfect day even if she tried.

She sat alone at the moment, on a blanket sprawled under a tree. In the distance, Van and Cheyenne played with Elizabeth by the lake, dipping her feet in and out of the water while she giggled with delight. A few feet away Kyra and Jake sat together, holding makeshift poles in their hands and studying the water intently. They had gotten into an argument earlier over what would make the best fishing bait: a Twinkie or a piece of bologna. Both too stubborn to give into to the other (they must have gotten that from their father, Reba figured), they quickly ran down to the lake to prove the other wrong. Brock was sitting off to the side of them, holding a pole of his own except without the interest of betting who would catch the first fish (though she had an inkling that if he caught one first with his piece of bread bait, he would never let their children forget it). They had all asked Reba to join them in their various activities, but she opted to sit it out, claiming that she had to gather up the leftover picnic stuff before the ants got to it. The truth of the matter was she just wanted to be alone for a bit, to soak up the moment.

Reba was still finding it very hard to believe that it had only been a month since Brock's accident; so much had already changed. They were the family they once were again….except with four new people added to the picture (soon to be five when Van and Cheyenne's son was born). She couldn't believe it had all worked out for the best. The man she loved was back in her life and she still go to keep the best friend she never knew she even wanted. How perfect was that?

Of course, transitioning to that perfect little life hadn't been easy. After things calmed had down following the wedding and the reception, Barbra Jean's absence hit everyone very hard, and all had wondered how they were going to be able to keep up that friendship with her without things being terribly awkward. It didn't seem possible at first, and as a result the kids took their loss and frustrations out on their parents.

"This is all your fault," Kyra had screamed at her mother after the second time Barbra Jean had refused to drop by. "If you hadn't seduced Dad, none of this would be happening right now!"

That had nearly killed Reba; she hated it when her children were angry enough to speak so coldly to her. Brock had been quick to his wife's defense, but it still hadn't kept her from feeling incredibly guilty all over again. She had thought for sure she had had her children's definite approval, but apparently she had been wrong. Obviously she hadn't betted on how hard it was all really going to be.

For days the kids had refused to speak to Brock and Reba beyond what was necessary, creating enormous tension in the Hart household, but fortunately Barbra Jean had dropped by later on to save the day. She had a talk with the kids, explaining that her absence was due to the fact that she had been hunting for a smaller house around the neighborhood (after all, why did she need that big ole four bedroom house when it was just gonna be her and Henry?) and that it had had nothing to do with their parents' remarriage. She went on to explain to them that she deserved better than to be in a relationship with a man who was clearly in love with another woman, and convinced them that Reba and Brock really did belong together if they were still in love. Barbra Jean assured the children that she was happy for the couple; and that she would be alright and would visit often. After a little more reassurance, the kids finally consented and their anger for their parents quickly dissolved. They had even gone so far as to apologize for their behavior later on, a rarity in Reba's book.

She had been glad that issue had been resolved nicely, but there had still been the matter of the one present between Brock and Barbra Jean. For a long time, they had avoided each other like the plague, probably to avoid the awkwardness that had settled between them. The only time they ever even met was when Brock went to go pick up or drop off Henry, and that was only for a few brief moments. Reba knew they couldn't continue to be a family that way. She desperately wanted to keep relationships with both of them, and she couldn't do that until they ceased to walk on eggshells around each other. She had finally decided to call an intervention.

She made them sit down in the living room one day and talk, just the two of them, and straighten out whatever tension had arisen over the whole mess. The end result was just what Reba had been hoping for: Brock and Barbra Jean agreed to remain good friends, just as Reba and Brock had attempted to do before they fell back in love.

"Not that that's gonna happen between us," Brock had quickly added when they were discussing his and Barbra Jean's conversation later that night in their bedroom. Reba had laughed dismissively.

"I know it won't, I trust you," she had assured him. At that, a tender kiss had followed, which of course had led to more rather quickly. Reba now smiled contently at the recollection. All the issues she had worried about before she and Brock remarried had been miraculously solved, and now there was nothing left for them to do but to love each other and continue on with the rest of their lives side by side.

Of course, she knew even _that_ wasn't going to be without its problems. There would definitely come times in the future when she would doubt his faithfulness again; and there would be times that Brock would wonder if she truly trusted him. Bitter feelings would linger over the six years they lost and jealousy would probably arise easily on both their parts. But Brock really seemed like he wanted to make it work this time. They've only been remarried for a couple of weeks and he's already shown on several occasions that he was willing to communicate and put in the hard work to keep their relationship from falling apart again. And if he was willing to give it his all then so was Reba. Besides, she believed that if their love was strong enough they could work through just about anything….and she really believed it was.

Reba absent-mindedly twisted the band around her ring finger and stared at her husband. She really did love him so; even after all they had been through. She assumed that was perhaps the reason why she had been able to accept him back into her life and heart so quickly, he had never really left.

Okay, so it wasn't exactly a fairytale ending to a fairytale romance. Husband dumps wife for pregnant mistress only to win her back after freak accident didn't exactly make for a potential Disney movie, but Reba never believed life was supposed to be perfect in that sense. They had never stopped loving each other even through the pain, anger, and betrayal, and that was fairytale enough for her.

Brock caught sight of her staring at him and gave her a come-over-here smile. Reba gladly got up from her seat on the blanket and joined him by the lake.

"Any luck," she asked when she took a seat next to him on a soft grassy knoll.

"No, not really," he admitted. "Must be something wrong with the water; the fish just aren't biting today."

"Really," she replied skeptically as she leaned forward and glanced over at her kids. Kyra and Jake were holding two fish a piece in their hands, comparing sizes and trying to determine who won the bet. Brock followed her gaze and scoffed.

"I meant there was something wrong with this part of the water specifically," he added quickly as he gestured to the part of the lake before him. Reba laughed.

"Whatever you say, honey." A comfortable silence fell between them as Reba stared off into the rapidly fading sun. All of a sudden she was aware of how fast the temperature was dropping and she gave a little shiver.

"It's getting pretty late, maybe we should go," she suddenly told her husband.

"Aw, but we've been having such a nice day," he protested. "I don't want it to end just yet."

"But it's gonna get dark soon, and I'm getting cold," she argued.

"Let's just stay until the sun goes down," Brock pleaded. "Please Reba? I missed doing this with y'all for six years; I just want to enjoy it for as long as I can. Please?" He topped off his plea with big puppy dog eyes he knew Reba couldn't refuse. She sighed.

"Alright," she consented. "But just until the sun goes down! I'm gonna go get my sweater from the car." She made a move to get up but Brock stopped her.

"Oh you don't need that! Come 'ere!" He set his pole aside and opened his arms up to her. Reba smiled and scooted closer her to him, leaning up against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her tightly to keep her warm.

"Better," he whispered into her ear.

"Much better," she replied as she closed her eyes and soaked up the warmth of his body against her. He smiled and kissed her on the temple before resting his chin on her shoulder and staring off into the sunset with her.

Reba sighed contently as she leaned against him closer still, feeling his heart beat against her. That, wrapped up right there in the warmth of her love and best friend, was where she knew she belonged. And it was where she always wanted to stay.

THE END

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Alright, so this last chapter really didn't have too much of a point to it, but you must understand. I have this obsessive compulsive disorder where everything must be as realistic as possible, so I just had to throw this dull one in! Hee hee! It's a problem, I know, and I'm thinking about seeking professional help, so no worries!

Anyway, that's it! That's the whole story! I hope y'all enjoyed my first full length Reba story as much as I enjoyed writing it! Special thanks to those who inspired the plot and ideas, and also to everyone who reviewed. You are greatly appreciated! Until we meet again!


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